For the Future: a Han and Leia AU
by Aanix
Summary: 16 years after the Battle of Yavin, Han and Leia's lives have taken very different paths. Now, fate will bring them together like it should have long ago... UPDATED & COMPLETED (added chapter titles)
1. Easier to forget

~[16 yrs. A.B.Y.]~  
  
- - -   
  
Leia Organa looked out the window of her hovercar as the vehicle decelerated, coming to a stop outside its destination.   
  
She had been looking forward to tonight all day. It would be simple - it was just dinner with family, no politics, and no agendas - just a quiet dinner with her brother and her son.   
  
Her eyes came to rest on the ashen brown hair of Anakin, tracing his profile as he stirred in his sleep. She didn't want to wake him. He looked so peaceful - a feeling she envied him every day.   
  
Anakin's eyes fluttered open and he yawned, stretching his arms out as he sat up and lifting his head off the cushioning of the hovercar's interior.   
  
"Are we there?"   
  
She smiled. "Yes, why don't you run inside and tell Uncle Luke that I'll be a minute."   
  
Anakin nodded, a little groggy, and slipped out of the car as the chauffeur droid opened it.   
  
Leia sighed. She was so exhausted from the happenings of the day that she was tempted to pass out inside the hovercar and forget about dinner. It frustrated her that she couldn't muster more endurance, and that after all these years she'd turned into a tired old politician after all.   
  
~Not old yet,~ she reminded herself, though it didn't help much. It only proved that when she finally was old and gray, she would be even worse off than now: a weary, stressed, and - to be entirely truthful - unhappy woman.   
  
She brought her eyes up to look at where Anakin had been sleeping. ~Well, almost unhappy. ~  
  
Nodding to the chauffeur droid, she lifted her skirt to her ankles, freeing her feet to place themselves, uninhibited, onto the ground. It was a cool night on Coruscant, but the chill chased away the clouds so that the many stars of the galaxy could preach their brilliance to those below, on a planet whose own resplendence seemed so counterfeit against a deep blue sky.   
  
Leia came upon Luke's door, feeling her brother's presence which permeated the very walls of the duracrete building. This place, to her, was more home than her own residence on the capital world, even more so than the palace from which she ruled in such veiled solitude.   
  
She opened the door, which had already identified her, allowing her access to her brother's home. The hallway was warm and the lighting itself seemed welcoming. She found it funny that she could decorate and entire mansion with all the wealth of Kuat and still never mimic this apartment's ardent atmosphere.   
  
Luke was not a man to care about the look of his home, as shown by the disorderly manner of the living room that met Leia's eyes as it came into view, but somehow, his home reminded her of the comfort of her mother's arms.   
  
"Leia!" came Luke's voice as he walked out of the dinning room, coming up to his sister and folding her into a hug.   
  
"It's good to see you," Leia said, holding him at arms length.   
  
"You too. What has it been now - three weeks?" Luke asked. "You've got way too much on your plate these days, I hardly ever get to see you."   
  
"I know, but with this new proposal coming up and Hapes turning into a bureaucratic mess..." she sighed, "Sometimes I think I wasn't cut out for this job."   
  
Leia turned, walking towards the dining room with Luke in tow.   
  
"I actually wanted to mention something to you before we sit down," Luke said, but Leia had already turned the corner.   
  
Leia's eyes fell on the figure at the head of the table. ~So much for a quiet family dinner. ~  
  
Han Solo stood up to meet her, bowing curtly the waist, "Lady Organa."   
  
"Admiral Solo," Leia nodded, taking a seat at the opposite side of the table. The atmosphere had gone from friendly to regal formality in less than a millisecond, though there was no mistaking the cause. She glanced down at the food in front of her, thanking the Force that it was there to divert her attention.   
  
Luke attempted to lighten the surroundings. "Han was just arrived on world yesterday. He's been asked provide the military support for the proposal you're working on." He feigned a mannerly smile as he sat down on the side between his sister and Han.   
  
Leia's heart sank. "You're the military representative?" She'd been informed earlier that week of the intention of bring formal military backing to her proposal, considering its direct participation with that branch of government, but she was now kicking herself for not being involved in the filling of that position.   
  
"Don't sound so disappointed, Your Highness," Han replied, putting a fork full of vegetables in his mouth as he finished.   
  
Leia turned to her brother, not showing her anger at him for inviting this guest. "Where's Anakin?"   
  
"He's upstairs," Luke replied, "Playing vidgames with Jacen. I had their dinner brought up to them."   
"Oh," Leia replied, not sure what else to say. She hadn't seen Jacen in quite sometime, which no doubt went along with the fact that she avoided the boy's father, and she would have done anything for the distraction of having the boys at the table. Perhaps then the uncomfortable silence which suffused the room wouldn't be so potent, nor would the awkward bits of conversation in-between be so barren.   
  
"Jacen and Anakin are both progressing very well at the Academy," Luke stated. Leia was grateful for his attempt to carve into the silence with something which might strip the formality from the conversation, or perhaps pull attention away from the constrained attitudes of the once good friends. It didn't make her any less angry at him for the situation he had inadvertently made, but it was an effort she could appreciate.   
  
Despite all the hope she had held for a relaxing evening, now all she wanted to do was to finish her food and go home. Being alone in her ever cold bed was better than sitting in the icy room she now inhabited.   
  
~Just one more thing I have to worry about,~ she thought, ~the past catching up with me. ~  
  
- - -   
  
Han stood in the entrance to the living room, down the hallway from the front door where Luke had just closed the door behind his sister and nephew.   
  
"Well you two were civil," Luke said as he walked down the hallway, reaching Han after a few steps.   
  
~Civil, ha, now that's a word for it.~ Han looked at his friend. "I didn't have to come here tonight, and if you'd have told me the guest list, I would have declined."   
  
Luke sighed, "So I still have to keep my sister and my best friend in separate rooms?"   
  
"Yes," Han replied, as though it were obvious, "And on separate days, too. Look, Luke, we're not the best of friends anymore, and I'd prefer it if you didn't push something like this again. I'm already stuck with her at work for a while; don't make me deal with this on my free time."   
  
Han moved to the couch, sinking into it as he sat and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. Luke knew as fluently versed in the elements and entrails of this situation as Chewie was in Basic. It was hard to explain without having lived it, and even then, there were times when he didn't think he didn't know what had really happened.   
  
Luke sat down across from him. "Whatever happened to you two? We were all great in the beginning, and now we all can't even be in the same room together."   
  
"It doesn't matter anymore, okay? It all happened a long time ago." Han let out a long breath. ~Sometimes it's easier to forget. ~  
  
- - - 


	2. That Time of Year

~[4 yrs. A.B.Y.]~  
  
~"The funeral for beloved luminary, Bria Tharen Solo, was held today on her home world of Corellia. The thirty-two year old rebel heroine was found by her husband, General Han Solo, only a few days ago. She had been shot to death in her hotel room on Bakura, shortly after the signing of the Truce last week. Tharen Solo had been a notable New Republic luminary, and had been involved in the piece talks on Bakura after the incident with the Ssi-rusk. The events surrounding her death are still under investigation; however, preliminary reports point to a bounty hunter - most likely hired by her former capture on the Hutt planet of Ylesia. Attendants of the ceremony included Admiral Ackbar of the New Republic Military, and the honorable leader of the former Alliance, Mon Mothma. She leaves behind a husband and infant son."   
  
Leia turned the holo off. It was almost ridiculous how the media could make it all sound so cut and dry. A person's life - their whole being - had been shot out of existence, and all that was afforded her were titles like "rebel heroine," and "beloved luminary," all which meant nothing when it came down to it.   
  
Bria Solo hadn't been Leia's best friend, that was true, but they had been strong allies in their fight against the Empire with many fruitful missions under their collective belt - including the capture of the first Death Star schematics.   
  
That was how Leia would remember her - as the brave woman, the fighter who had gone to such lengths to save so many over the years.   
  
The funeral had been difficult, to say the least. Han had held Jacen through the ceremony, taking upon him the glares of hatred from his in-laws to weigh down his already burdensome grief. The baby hadn't stopped wailing since his mother's death, and his cries echoed through the marble halls of the mausoleum as Bria's body was laid to rest. Han just stared off into the unknown, and Leia had noticed how he did not move his eyes from his wife's form until her body was lowered out of view.   
  
This was one quality Leia could identify with. Han Solo, for all his shortcomings, was undoubtedly loyal. Though Leia had never liked him much, this was one thing she could afford him respect for: his allegiance.   
  
Leia heard crying from the other room.~ The baby. ~  
  
She headed down the hall, stopping as she came upon the room from where the crying emanated, hearing a soft voice inside.   
  
"C'mon, little guy, its okay, lets just get some sleep," Han whispered.   
  
Leia was tempted to leave them be, but Han wasn't getting much of anywhere, and it couldn't hurt to try and help.   
  
She pushed the door opened a little, stepping in.   
Han looked up at her from across the room. "What do you want?"   
  
Leia was beginning to forget all her thoughts about Solo's character. "I was going to ask if you needed any help, but maybe that was a little ambitious."   
  
"I don't need any advice, Princess, I can handle my own son," Han said, his comments in no way proving him right as Jacen continued to cry.   
  
Leia turned to leave. "Gee, thank the gods you're not bitter," she muttered under her breath.   
  
"Wait," Han said over the cries.   
  
Leia turned around.   
  
"I'm sorry," he conceded. "Look, I haven't slept in a while, and I know were never really got along, but under the circumstances if you could just cut me some slack..."   
  
Leia smiled lightly. "All right, I can do that. Do you want my help, then?"   
  
"I'd resurrect Palpatine if I thought it'd do any good."   
  
She gave him a smirk. "I'm sure that's not necessary."   
  
After showing Han how to cradle his son, Leia managed to get the tired and saddened little child to dose off, allowing a calm quiet to settle over the room. She and Han then tip toed off to the kitchen for a much needed cup of caf.   
  
"I haven't got a clue how I'm going to do this anymore," Han admitted, setting his caf down on the counter, his hands wrapped around it for warmth.   
  
"You'll figure it out eventually," Leia said, partially feigning her confidence.   
  
"Hah, and what if I don't?"   
  
"Well, then you'll have Chewie. Do life debts include diaper duty?" They both laughed lightly. Leia could tell he was grateful for the humor, though she knew the question had been serious. "In truth, you probably just need some sleep."   
  
Han quieted, gazing into his up, "I don't sleep to well anymore."   
  
Leia glanced down, not sure whether to change the subject or to ask him about it. She may be a diplomat, but – truth be told – she wasn't the best when it came to personal problems. Ask her to fight for the lives of millions and she would rise to the occasion - but require her to save one man's heart and she was lost.   
"You know, the crying wasn't really the problem," he continued, laughing bitterly to himself in little huffs between thoughts. "It's just that it's the same sound I heard when I found her, so it kinda got locked in my head with the whole thing. It reminds me of ...things."   
  
A silence fell between them. It wasn't uncomfortable - like when idle chatter runs thin at a high class dinner party - but more of a rest, giving the participants of the conversation a chance to digest the words spoken, and decide what could possibly be said next.   
  
Leia needed this silence, she had never had to deal with this before. She had dealt with grief over the destruction of Alderaan, with the death of her mother, and the death of her father; but helping someone deal with such things would no doubt be different, especially when that person has the same method of grief as she did herself: to push it back.   
  
She hesitated for a moment longer, then slowly moved her hand over his, and gave a light squeeze. In an uncertain moment, his hand began to move. Leia inhaled sharply, only to find him turning his hand over to take hers into it, returning the slight embrace.   
  
The two exchanged a strong gaze, laced with comfort and promise, and gave each other a smile. ~  
  
  
- - -   
  
  
"Lady Organa, Lady Organa, are you listening?" came the slightly mumbled voice of Senator Toochat of Phindar.   
  
Leia pushed herself back to reality with one spur as her senses began to reactivate, one by one starting their streams of information once again. She received her hearing first, and second came her sight, which had been transfixed on a far wall for quite some time.   
  
"Yes, yes, of course." She scanned the room, looking at the unconvinced faces of her committee as she adjusted herself.   
  
"I was just mentioning that we need to address the subject of personnel. Exactly who are we going to get to train the new forces?" The larged-eyed Phindian continued, his pupils floating over the inhabitants of the room. "We need names - prestigious ones - something we can market. What good does asking for money do when the public doesn't know what it's going to get them?"   
  
"Agreed," Leia piped in. "The people should know our full intentions, which is why I have compiled a comprehensive list of information which will be included in the voters' pamphlet."   
  
"With all due respect, Your Highness." A Bith representative named Jiq joined in. "This vote is going before the Senate, not the public, shouldn't we be marketing it towards the senators?"   
  
"A valid point," Leia replied, desperately holding back a yawn while attempting to make a strong impression. "However, the senators *are* required to request the opinions of their own peoples. I want these opinions to be based on information - not rumors and assumptions. Besides, Representative Jiq, we are a democracy - we are ruled by the people. I can't speak for anyone else, but I would prefer that rule to be an informed one."   
  
As Leia finished, an aide quietly slipped into the room and moved to her side. "Queen Mother, a communication from the Hapes requires your attention."   
  
Leia nodded. "If you will excuse me."   
  
She followed the aide quietly out the door and down the hall to a small room with a vid screen.   
  
"Couldn't this have waited till after the meeting?" Leia inquired. It took long enough as it was to get the committee down to business; she wasn't looking forward to starting over.   
  
"I apologize, your Majesty." The aide bowed her head in as she spoke. "An attempt has been made on your husband's life."   
  
Leia sighed.~ Is it that time of year again? ~  
  
She dismissed the aide and sat down at the vid station, punching the button to close the door. This was her least favorite part about ruling Hapes: the bureaucratic mess that always seems to arise when you least expected it, and don't particularly need it, either.   
  
She flipped the screen on.   
  
"Your Majesty." Her head of security, a strong featured woman of stature, bowed with deference. "I apologize for the interruption."   
  
Leia nodded.   
  
"It was this morning," the officer continued, knowing that Leia had already been informed, "King Isolder and young Prince Anakin has been placed under maximum security pending an investigation--"   
  
Leia put her hand up, signaling for her to stop. "This happens all the time, Captain. The last time was less than two months ago. I appreciate you going to such lengths - but is it really necessary?"   
  
The officer nodded in reply. "I am aware that this is not an isolated incident, Your Majesty. However, I am lead to believe that this attempt was no ruse, and meant real harm to your husband - and perhaps your son."   
  
She leaned further forward in her chair. "Do you have any suspects?"   
  
"The investigation is underway, though I doubt our ability to both protect and search accurately. I would request that Your Majesty solicit a Jedi to help in the efforts."   
"Agreed," Leia exhaled.   
  
The woman turned away for a moment, and then returned her attention back to Leia. "I have been informed that King Isolder would like to speak with you, Your Majesty."   
  
"Patch him through," Leia replied.   
  
Isolder's face appeared on the screen, replacing his predecessor. It still amazed Leia that he remained as handsome as he had been the day they'd met. He still held the kindness and civility he had always carried, and there was still that same smile that greeted her despite the amount of time that had passed since last seeing each other. However, after all this, there still lingered the knowledge that those qualities were all he offered her in the long run. They had peace and a good companionship, but neither kidded themselves into believing that there was any passion, or any love to link them.   
  
"Isolder," Leia acknowledged.   
  
"I wanted to inform you that the Hapan commanders have been spoken to, and they are enthusiastic about training with the New Republic forces." He spoke with the tone of a colleague, something that Leia had grown used to over the nearly nine years of their union.   
  
"Is that all?" Leia asked, returning his tone out of habit. She was not surprised at the news, or its messenger. She had requested that Isolder inquire with the commanders quite some time ago. However, Isolder did seem to have something else on his mind, and it wasn't what she had predicted.   
  
"This attack was not a ploy, Leia, I do believe it had merit, though, I doubt the reasoning to be any different than the others: taxes, shipping rights, personal grudge. I do suggest caution both on Hapes and out of our borders." His tone didn't lose its stately air, though; the innuendo of genuine concern saturated his words.   
  
Leia nodded in agreement. "I want you to send Anakin here. He should stay with me."   
  
"It will be done." Isolder's image faded from the screen.   
  
It had been a long time since she'd had to deal with a genuine threat on those close to her, though the length made her in no way more centered on the matter.   
  
She resolved to speak with Luke immediately.   
  
- - - 


	3. Great Job, Solo

[16 yrs. A.B.Y.]  
- - -   
  
"Hey Chewie, try her again," Han called as he pulled the welder out from Falcon's insides, signaling for his co-pilot to reroute the power to that area once again.   
  
The engines moaned and power began to work its way through the causeways of the ship; the humming sound of the ship coming to life, following the energetic warmth which saturated the metal beneath him. Then a spark flew, and the humming turned to a wheeze as the power reached a dead end.   
  
"Turn it off! Turn it off," Han yelled as the sparks became more numerous, a smokey haze rising from below the exterior panel.   
  
He could hear Chewie growl a response while attempting to quell the problem. The Wookiee howled in frustration as the controls wouldn't compute with speed.   
  
A spark made contact with Han's palm and the Correllian grit his teeth. "Dammit, Chewie! Shut the thing off!"   
  
The humming stopped, and the sparks desisted as Chewbacca rumbled a reply.   
  
Han took a look at his hand. ~Great, just what I need.~ It was burnt in a slash from the base of his thumb to his pinkie finger on his right hand. Though the cut was at a decent depth, the heat had cauterized it, burning dirt into the gash.   
  
"Chewie, I'm gonna head inside for a few minutes - one of those sparks caught me." Following his arrival path, Han slipped off the roof of the Falcon, ascending the ramp to the inside after he hit the ground.   
  
Passing the cockpit for a moment, Han poked his head in. "I'll be in the galley if you need me," he said to Chewie before continuing on to his destination.   
  
Han slumped into a chair in the galley after procuring a medkit from the cabinet on the other side of the room. It had been a long time since he'd taken wounds for this ship. It was almost refreshing to have the slash in his hand, if merely for nostalgia.   
  
Time seemed to have past so quickly since then, since he'd been a smuggler and a scoundrel, maybe even a hero every once in a while. Despite his outward despisal of heroics, he couldn't deny to himself that he missed saving the day.   
  
He could remember the first Death Star - Luke's once in a lifetime shot - the unmistakable high of giving the Imperials what they deserved after all the pain they'd caused so many. Granted, he hadn't been into the life of the Rebel back then, or at least he wouldn't admit it. Bria had always said he'd come around on the cause when the time was right - he'd never ceased to despise her accuracy on that.   
  
Days didn't hold adventure for Han Solo anymore. They held meetings and proposals and politics - things that he'd ever been able to fully stomach. It was depressing a great deal of the time, but he assumed that this is what responsibility meant: doing things you can't stomach because it's what was asked of you.   
  
~Responsibility,~ he thought, allowing the word to echo in his head. It was funny how he could let it run his life; how he'd lost his spontaneity because of it. He missed the days when Chewie and he would take the Falcon for joyrides just for the fun of it. He regretted that Jacen hadn't had any of that kind of fun - the kid deserved to let loose once in a while.   
  
Han couldn't put his finger on the last time he'd really let loose himself...   
  
  
~ ~ ~  
[7 yrs. A.B.Y.]  
  
"Whohooo!" came a voice over the comm as the ship hit lightspeed, leaving battles and bad guys behind.   
  
Han let out a deep breath as he slumped into his pilot's chair, laughing to himself as he heard Jacen's giggles from the other side of the simulator.   
  
"You see dat, Daddy? Dat s'ot was un in a millon." Han allowed a genuine smile to slip across his face at the delight in his son's voice. The three year old tripped over his words but Han always knew what was being said.   
  
"Yep, one in a million kiddo." He stood up and stretched a bit before leaving the simulator cockpit, making his way to the gunner chair where his son sat.   
  
Han pulled around the corner to find Leia unstrapping the boy. She set Jacen down on the floor, giggling at how he squirmed. "I was going to suggest some candy to celebrate, but I'm not sure sugar would do him any good."   
  
Han chuckled, "I don't know. Whadda you think, kiddo?"   
  
Jacen looked up at his father, "I tink we s'ould get ice ceam."   
  
"You would," Leia said, tousling his hair.   
  
"Well, it's about time we headed back anyways if I'm going to make that meeting in the morning," Han sighed, turning his attention to Leia, "He's got to go with me since Chewie's on leave and I want him to get some sleep." Han lifted Jacen up into his arms and shook him around in jest. "The last thing I need is for you to be cranky."   
  
"If you need someone to watch him tomorrow I can do it. Besides, Luke's on Coruscant for a few days and he'd like a chance to see him," Leia said as Jacen giggled profusely.   
  
"You sure? I mean, it's bad enough that I dragged you along on this little trip–"   
  
"You didn't kidnap me and force me to come, Han. Besides, I've got nothing better to do, and it's not like we don't get along," She picked Jacen up from Han and held him to her side, resting most of his weight comfortably on her hip, "We get along, don't we?" she said as she rubbed her nose against Jacen's.   
  
"At least let me pay you back. Trust me, he can be a real handful," Han said, hinting of his many single-parenting woes.   
  
"That's not necessary, really," Leia replied, rocking an already drowsy Jacen in her arms, "Look, he's already falling asleep so let's stop debating and get him home."   
  
Han nodded and they exited the simulator.   
  
~ ~ ~   
  
"How's he doing?" Han whispered as Leia tiptoed out of Jacen's room, pulling the door closed softly behind her.   
  
"He's out cold," she said, falling into step with him as they made their way down the hallway and into the living room.   
  
"You really don't have to come by tomorrow," Han said, leaning on the bar which extended from his kitchen and wrapping his hand around a glass full of soft blue liquid.   
  
"I'm beginning to think this is you subtle way of telling me to get lost," Leia replied, chuckling lightly.   
  
"No, no, it's just I don't think you know what you're getting into. He's not cute all the time." Han's sincerity was only so believable as he laughed softly.   
  
"I can handle Jacen, Han, but thanks for your faith in my abilities," Leia remarked, sipping her own glass of blue liquid.   
  
"Why do you have to take everything like that? I'm just trying to save you some trouble." Han set his glass down.   
  
"That's a load of poodoo, Solo. You don't trust me with your kid, do you?" Leia's face was reddening slightly, but she was more hurt at the thought than angry.   
  
"I trust you with Jacen - even more that I think I trust myself with him. You'd make a better parent than I ever would, Leia - that has nothing to do with it." Han attempted to calm himself, exhaling slowly.   
  
"Then what is it, Han? I'm a little confused here."   
  
"I don't want to come home to you," Han blurted out, almost too loudly.   
  
"What?" Leia breathed. "What are you talking about?"   
  
"I don't want to come home to you because I'd like it too much," Han admitted, nearly through his teeth.   
  
"I..." Leia began as Han moved closer. He brought his hand under her chin, guiding it upward, then lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.   
  
The kiss grew in intensity and it seemed for a moment that everything was as it should be - the universe had made a right turn, and the Force had put things in order. But Han pulled away, seeing in Leia's eyes what he had seen so many years ago in Bria's.   
  
"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to do that."   
  
Leia nodded, her nerves a little shaken. "I should go."   
  
Han pushed away the voice in his head that told him what an idiot he was being, how he should say no, and that he should tell her the truth despite his guilt.   
  
"Um, maybe we shouldn't talk about this again," he said, in hopes that he could pretend that it was a dream.   
  
Leia nodded in agreement. "I'll see you tomorrow."   
  
As she shut the door behind her, Han slammed his fist down on the bar, cursing at himself. He heard the cry of Jacen in the other room and cursed himself again. He hated himself for betraying Bria. He hated himself for lying to Leia. And he hated himself for being such an idiot as to let himself kiss her, when he knew all to well that it would only hurt them both.   
  
Han sighed. ~Great job, Solo. ~  
  
- - - 


	4. This Is How It Is

[16 yrs. A.B.Y.]  
  
- - -   
  
Leia hugged her brother firmly, and then pulled away to hold him at arms length. She inhaled deeply, taking in the crisp forest air, still saturated with morning dew. "You never really appreciate this smell until you've lived on Coruscant," she said, "everything there is tainted with smog."   
  
"Yes, but on Coruscant you don't have as many problems with bugs," Luke replied, swatting at a fly as it buzzed around the two. He moved to his sister's side as they strode away from her transport and along one of the outer terraces of the Jedi Academy.   
  
Leia took in the sights around her as they walked, hoping to forget her purpose here - to lose it in the trees somewhere.   
  
"Anakin doesn't have to be back at the Academy for another few weeks, Leia," Luke said as they slowed to a stop and faced each other a little. "You don't think he'll get the idea?"   
  
"He doesn't need to know, Luke. It wouldn't be good for him," Leia said in an attempt to close the subject.   
  
"He's old enough to understand what the assassination attempts mean to his family. He should be told that his father might be in danger," Luke said, trying to persuade his sister though he thought the battle futile.   
  
"Are you going to tell me how to raise my son?" Leia asked, her tone almost denoting anger.   
  
"I'm sorry," Luke said, placing his hand on Leia's arm. He let out his frustration with a breath. "I'll try and stick to the realm of Jedi Master."   
  
They both laughed a little. Luke had gone through many a romance in his time, but never had anything lead to children. As much as he'd like to, Luke wasn't a parent, and Leia preferred it when he wouldn't tell her how to raise her child.   
  
"I didn't just come here to bring Anakin," Leia admitted after a moment.   
  
"I know," Luke replied, "This time the attack wasn't so subtle."   
  
"It's getting so ridiculous," Leia said, her irritation with the matter showing through her words. "They want to take his life and mine for no other reason but politics," she sighed. "It doesn't matter where I go; I can't get away from this mess." She put her hand on her forehead for a moment, hoping to rub away the stress.   
  
Long ago she had thought it might be easier to run a monarchy– no senators vying for power, no bureaucrats buying votes– but it was all the same. In the end, Hapes had as much corruption as any culture, with its backdoor deals and alliances. She'd become the queen of a pretentious, power hungry people, and it was draining in the very least.   
  
"This proposal is just another thing the Hapans are divided over," Leia continued. "Some want the protection, and others don't want the threat. And there are those who'll kill to get a message across," she laughed lightly for a moment. "Killing to eliminate the threat of violence. It's almost ironic."   
  
"You need my help?" Luke asked.   
  
"Yes. Well, one of your Jedi," Leia replied. "Isolder has faith in our forces as I do, but we both know that we can't protect him and search for the assassin all at once. They'll be a slip, someone will take the opportunity, and that'll be one more person I bury in my life."   
  
Luke nodded, remaining silent for a moment, as though pondering something she did not catch. "You don't love him."   
  
Leia paused. In her eight years of her marriage, her brother had never mentioned anything like this. She knew all to well that it was obvious to him, but for some reason he's remained silent, knowing how Leia herself didn't say it aloud. She'd always taken her relationship with Isolder in stride, and it was strange to have someone point out the fault in it.   
  
"That's not true," she lied   
  
"Okay," Luke said in mock agreement. "I apologize."   
  
Leia turned away, leaning her weight on the railing of the terrace. "I'm still mad at you for the other night," she said, changing the subject. "You didn't have to invite him."   
  
"I don't have the right to invite my friend to dinner?" Luke asked in defense.   
  
"Maybe if he'd been a mutual friend," she said, her tone speaking volumes of the time passed since she'd been able to claim Han Solo as a friend.   
  
"He was once," Luke countered. "Besides, you two have to work together, I was hoping to break the ice in familiar company."   
  
"Working with Han isn't going to be easy, Luke," Leia said as she turned back to look at him, "but I can at least take heart in the fact that I don't have to spend too much time him. You're just making that time longer by bringing us together."   
  
"I'm sorry," Luke conceded. "I didn't know that it had gotten this bad between you two."   
  
"It's been bad for a long time, Luke, and we've accepted it," Leia sighed. "We're not going to save the galaxy together anymore. No more adventures, no more thrills. This is how it is."   
  
- - - 


	5. That Went Well

Han groaned as he adjusted his collar, walking down the entrance hall toward the hostess. He'd always hated formal wear of any and all kinds. It bunched in places that cloth should never bunch, it held in so many things that in nature shouldn't be so strictly contained, and –to put it plainly– it was damned uncomfortable. In his head, nothing beat some loose trousers, a plain shirt and jacket, and a blaster for some flair (should the occasion require).   
  
Unfortunately, the rest of the galaxy did not share his sentiments. Had he decided to show up in his casual wear for this lunch, he no doubt he'd be laughed out of the restaurant. He had considered doing it anyway, but his days for spiteful attitudes had passed and he seemed to have no stomach for the trouble.   
  
Of course, the choice of restaurant hadn't been his. Had it been, he'd be taking a taxi a few buildings lower to a seedier haunt of his old days. Someplace where the beverage list outnumbered the menu with more alcoholic mixes than one could sample in a lifetime, and where the food that didn't take a translator droid to pronounce.   
  
On the other hand, having a political lunch at such an establishment might not have been appropriate, despite its appeal. Considering the attendance roster for the afternoon, the location was more a choice of neutrality than anything.   
  
"May I help you?" the hostess asked as Han approached the counter.   
  
She smiled at him with glistening, bleached white teeth, their pigment as artificial as her happy mood. He couldn't blame her for the poor sentiment, though. This wasn't a day where he could be handing out warm welcome to strangers, either - no matter how much he was being paid.   
  
The restaurant was one of the ritzy, over decorated café's of the upper levels, and also one of the few places where workers were living, as opposed to the synthetic consciousness of droids. Though not many of the beings employed here ever brought sincerity with the menu. There was more good cheer in a droids voice simulator than a human waiter's tone – unless you tip well.   
  
"Yeah, I'm here to meet Lady Organa," Han said, jumbling together his most official tone.   
  
"Ah yes, Lady Organa has already been seated," the hostess replied, coming out from behind her counter with a datapad in hand. "If you'll just follow me."   
  
She led the way down a small corridor and into a large chamber full of diverse species politely dining on various types of substance. There was everything from an Oldarian Shuf Egg Salad, to Ikopi Tung – a delicacy of Naboo. Han was under the impression that not only wouldn't he be able to pronounce half of the foods, he wouldn't be able to figure out what they were once he did.   
  
"And here you are," the hostess told Han as they came upon the table.   
  
Leia looked up at him, her face held an expression he didn't take seriously. This was the face he'd seen her put on a thousand times - the one she keeps saved for occasions when she doesn't have a real countenance to give off. All it told him was, "Let's get this done and over with."   
  
"Thanks," Han said, as he took a seat opposite Leia. Over and done with was fine with him. That meant he could get out of this stuffy dining establishment, out of these clothes, and out of this already irksome situation.   
  
"How are you?" Leia asked out of courtesy. He could tell she wasn't really paying much attention to whether he answered or not. Her attention was focused on glancing out the window beside them at the afternoon skyline and the traffic zooming by.   
  
"Living, breathing, you know, the usual," Han mumbled, low enough that she wouldn't be able to hear him. She wouldn't have cared much anyway had she heard.   
  
"What was that?" Leia asked. Han was surprised for a moment, but figured she must have been listening closer than he thought.   
  
"Oh, um, just fine, thanks," he amended.   
  
Han lifted his menu in front of his face, blocking his view of Leia as he searched for something recognizable on the list. He longed for Chewie's terrible cooking back on the ~Falcon~. It may have tasted bad and been half cooked, but it was something he knew and was comfortable with.   
  
He wished they could have held this lunch on that bucket of bolts, with some ales and a cheap holo flick like anyone of his old smuggling deals. However, this wasn't smuggling, or rather, it didn't like to be associated with it. This was politics, and this place had a specific advantage: neutral territory. The ~Falcon~ was too far into Han's turf, and Leia's office was too far into hers. Neither of them wanted to venture into the other's realm; neither wanted to risk having a natural, non-business related conversation.   
  
The further the conversation got from the reason they were stuck together for the time being, the closer it got to the reason they wanted to be apart. Neither of them wanted to touch that subject, as it just brought about a great deal of issues that they both wanted left alone.   
  
Han cleared his throat. "Um, you wouldn't have any recommendations for this thing," he said, motioning at the menu, " 'cause to be honest, I'm lost."   
  
Leia pulled her attention away from the window.   
  
"Oh," she said, as though she'd just remembered where she was. "Um, I ordered the Leaves of Alder. It's a kind of culinary tribute to Alderaan they have here. It's the only real reason I come here." She let the last bit trail off, mumbling a little.   
  
Taking another look at the menu, Han nodded. "I'll just have that, then." He entered the order into the menu and set it down on the table in front of him.   
"So," Han said, breaking the silence that fell between them. "Did you have anything in particular that you wanted to go over before tomorrow? I was thinking of just doing my old "Defend the Republic" bit I did for the University a few years ago." That address had boosted the enlistment numbers a few points, as Han recalled, though the University later regretted the speech when they lost promising student to military careers. Needless to say, Han couldn't get an education there in his lifetime, should he have ever wanted to in the first place.   
  
"Actually," Leia began, finally finding her footing in this off setting and awkward conversation, "I have an outline here," - she handed him a datapad - "and I thought you could just present the military standpoint on the benefits of the proposal, which are listed here." She brought her arm across the table to point her finger at the position in the outline she'd described.   
  
"You have a dance mapped out you want me to do to?" Han asked.   
  
She let out a short breath in annoyance. "I'm sorry that the committee didn't have time to incorporate your portion of this proposal, but the draft is going before the Senate tomorrow and I just need you to say something along the lines of 'The guys with the guns like this.' I don't need a speech about the benefits of a military career."   
  
Han had amazed himself at how quickly he'd demolish the conversation. It had to be some kind of record. The fastest man to get a dialogue from cordial to hateful banter. Less than twelve parsecs for certain.   
  
"I'm sorry, that was rude," Han apologized in his best effort not to speak through his teeth. For the oddest reason, apologizing to Leia was more agonizing than any form of torture he had yet experienced – that included both Hutt and Imperial methods. It went against everything he's held himself to believe was absolute. Of course, the agony of having to find another, longer way around this situation would top the apology. "I just wasn't expecting it to be all done, but what the hell, it saves me some time."   
  
"That's okay. I'm at fault, really. I had expected some kind of change, or maybe even maturity in you. I was obviously mistaken." Something in Leia's tone told Han that his apology hadn't come across as sincere or repairing as he'd planned.   
  
"You know, I came here hoping that we could get through a conversation without something like this happening. I'm thinking now that's not possible," Han said, leaning in a little. "I don't know why you're angry at me, but I sure as hell have reason to be angry at you."   
  
"I don't think we should discuss this, especially not here," Leia said, getting up from her chair and pulling her purse over her shoulder, "Just tell them to put the meal on my tab. I'll see you at the address." And with that she turned her back and made her way through the tables and out of site.   
  
Han sighed as he leaned back into his chair. ~That went well.~ 


	6. Little by Little

Leia rubbed the back of her neck as she looked out over the sea of datapads laid askew before her. Her muscles ached from holding her head up for so long. The dim light cast shadows across the room from its place on her desk, warming her right hand with radiated heat. It was late, and she was putting the finishing touches on her address.   
  
She hadn't asked to head this committee, but she had to admit it was her fault for not being able to say "no" when she needed to. Everyone seemed to think that she had extra time on her hands to do things of this sort - to back proposals, to head committees and run campaigns. The truth was she didn't have the time of the energy. She was a Queen, a Senator, and on top of it all she was a mother, all of which are full time jobs.   
  
Now the time she would have set aside for sleep is being spent on politics.   
  
It wouldn't have been so troublesome had complications not arose. There had been protests, and not just about the proposal itself, there were factions arising who objected to Leia's involvement. Like father like daughter, the signs would say. These were the factions who challenged the Jedi's participation in New Republic affairs. These were the ones who hated Luke and the Academy.   
  
One argument had accused Leia of trying to take over the Senate as Palpatine had done. One of the former Emperor's first steps in taking down the Old Republic had been the commissioning of a Clone Army. They said that Leia was doing the same. Leia hadn't even thought up the initiative, and yet they accused her of some false treachery behind it.   
  
She had no doubt in her mind that the assassination attempts made on Isolder were connected to this sudden jump in hatred for the Skywalker lineage. She was now almost positive that someone had been after her son, and had only attacked Isolder as a way to cover it up. The Prince of Hapes was attacked on an almost seasonal basis. It could be expected to be taken in stride as any other political ploy in the Hapes Royal Court.   
  
Leia sighed. She envied the people who'd never lived in the spotlight - the farmers, pilots, street venders. Those who live simple lives no doubt have fewer and less complicated problems on their minds while Leia's just kept growing in complexity and number by the hour. She had considered that with all the stress she underwent day in and day out that she might die young - now it didn't seem like such a bad idea.   
  
How had she gotten here? She was at a place where serving the people meant everything she had in her as up for auction: her health, her time, even her heart. She'd been raised as a representative of the people, she was to help them and protect them, and she would die for them. But when had she decided to truly give her life?   
  
~Little by little,~ she thought, ~little by little.~   
  
She'd given up her childhood to help refugees and victims of the Empire. She'd given up her days of youth to be a freedom fighter and a Senator, and she'd given up her heart at the request of her people. That had been the last piece of herself to loose.   
Leia's eyes fell on her wedding ring. With all the riches and power she gained, in the end, was it worth all she had left behind?   
  
  
~~~   
[8 yrs B.B.Y]  
~  
Leia took a deep breath as she opened the door. The last thing she needed right now was him. The past two weeks had been far too eventful for her taste and her head was reeling - something the presence of Han Solo had never done any good for.   
  
Han took a step inside her apartment, remaining silent as he passed her and headed for the living room. She followed, echoing his silence because she was as unsure how to begin this conversation as he was.   
  
They seated themselves across from one another in an almost uncomfortable distance was between them though there bodies were only a meter or so apart. This was but an inkling of the years to come.   
  
"You make your decision today," Han said, breaking into the quiet.   
  
Leia nodded, looking down at her hands as she lightly twiddled her thumbs. It went without saying what he was referring to. Today was the day she had to tell the Hapans whether or not she would marry their prince. It was the day she decided whether or not to rule them.   
  
The last two weeks had been an unwanted turning point in her existence, a place where she had to decide the rest of her life. It was the point where she and Han would have to change their relationship from a thought to an action or to nothing at all. It was the beginning or the end, and it was her responsibility to determine which. It was a conclusion she didn't want to come to.   
  
"Are you gonna do it?" he asked. His tone was quiet and lost as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, linking his fingers together and allowing them to fall between his legs.   
  
She lingered in silence. This was the question she didn't want to answer, because the answer was one that Han wouldn't understand. It was the answer he didn't want to hear.   
  
Han lowered his head, "You're gonna do it."   
  
"Han, I-"   
  
"You're going to say yes to that little twerp," he said, laughing to disguise the wound. "You know, I really thought it might have taken a few billion credits more than he offered, but hey, you must be cheaper than I thought."   
"It's not about the money or the jewels, Han. I have millions of people to think of. They need a home. This isn't even about you," Leia countered. She ignored the insult to her, knowing that to match it would only egg him on.   
  
"After everything, after that night, you're still going through with it," Han rubbed his temples.   
  
What did her expect her to do? She was obligated to the Alderaan survivors; she had responsibilities and duties to perform. There hadn't truly been a choice. In the end, she'd known what had to be done.   
  
"What would you have me do, Han?" she said, rising from her seat, her tone growing angry. "What reason do I have to refuse? Should I turn Isolder down on the off chance you might do what you've failed to do in four years? I think I've waited long enough."   
  
Han got up from his seat. "Don't do it," he said, coming closer to her. "Please Leia, I-"   
  
"Don't say anything," she said, holding up her hand to quell him. "You'll say you love me, and maybe I'll believe you, but that isn't going to change my mind." She took a deep breath as she held back tears. Leia straightened. "I have a duty to my people, they have asked that I do this and I will not refuse."   
  
A silence fell on the room, only the slight noise of breath filled the air. Leia wished with every inhale that Han might offer her something worth staying for, to proven to her that she was wrong. But with every exhale the room became staler, and neither spoke a word.   
  
Han left without speaking, and Leia maintained her tall posture until the door slammed behind him. With the room empty, she sunk into the chair behind her and gave her face, now watered with tears, in commission to her hands. 


	7. You Look Comfortable

Han tugged at his collar for the umpteenth time, as the hovertaxi pulled up in front of his hotel. If there was anything more uncomfortable than normal dress clothing, military dress uniforms would be it. 

It had not been his idea to wear the uniform. But, of course, since he was speaking on behalf of the military itself, they required that he were his shiny uniform with all his medals and what not. He felt like a vapin' holiday decoration with all his glittery metal pins, and the tightness of his trousers forcing him to walk like a soldier at all times. 

"You look comfortable," Luke chided as Han slid into the cab. 

Han gave an annoyed grin." Oh yeah, fun is definitely the word I would use." 

This part of the deal hadn't been told to him until recently. Up until then he'd thought this whole thing would be a quick job - just stand there, say a few things about the wonderful qualities of the military, then use the rest of the time as a paid vacation. Damn did Ackbar screw him over! The old fish didn't fill him in on the actual entailments of the request until almost a week after Han had accepted. 

"You ready?" Luke asked. 

"You kidding, if it didn't take so much concentration to breath in this uniform, I could do this in my sleep," Han replied, pulling down on the ends of his shirt and adjusting his collar again. 

Truth be told, Han was overjoyed that the day was finally here, because now all he had to do was get through it and he'd be home free. No more dress clothes, no more sucking up. It also meant no more bouts with Leia, and life would be perpetual coasting once again. 

"Next stop sir?" the cabby asked. 

Luke mumbled a familiar address and the cabby nodded back. 

"We going somewhere other than the Senate?" Han asked. 

"Um, I told Leia I'd come by to pick her up at o'eight hundred," Luke said, trying to brush off the deception. 

Han let his head fall backwards as he looked up at the ceiling. "This is one of those things you could have mentioned earlier," he said in an annoyed tone. "I told you before to leave this alone." 

"I am leaving it alone," Luke said unconvincingly. "I wanted to ride with you both. I never said you have to talk to one another." 

Han growled under his breath. Luke could be a pain in the rear sometimes with his persistence. It was understandable that he wanted to preserve something they'd all had long ago - their friendship in youth - but he didn't seem willing to give up on it, even when there wasn't anything left to save. 

Sometimes Han wondered if Luke knew something he didn't, as if there was something in the Force that told him to keep trying at this. If there was, Han hoped it would keep its mouth shut and leave them be. It would be so much easier to avoid Leia and the conflict that came with her if Luke wouldn't keep bringing them all together. 

You would think with all the arguments Luke has started by putting them in one room, he'd get a clue and leave them alone. He was just making it worse by forcing them together; it only made them want to be apart more. By this time, Han would be happy never to see Leia again in his life. 

That wasn't entirely true, he had to admit. Something in him really didn't want to never see her again - just maybe not till she's old and gray, and not beautiful anymore. By then, it would make it so much easier to hate her. Her looks - her long soft hair and warm pale skin - always made Han do a subconscious double take. It was annoying to think about because it disguised what she was like inside: cold and distant. 

That's what Han had convinced himself she was. He knew better somewhere in his head, but up in the front of his thoughts, that was what he told himself. She had made the decision to turn herself off long ago, and he could see it in her even now. 

Of course, he was just the same. He'd never admit it to himself aloud, but he'd gone down that lonely road as well. It was an almost darkly funny thought at how they'd gone down the same path as strangers - alone but on the same path. 

They pulled up to Leia's apartment and she opened the door to the cab. Han could see the surprised and exasperated look in her eyes as she got in the car, sitting opposite her brother. She said nothing but it spoke volumes of her irritation. 

Luke's comm unit beeped and he pulled it from his belt. 

"Yes, this is Master Skywalker." He appeared to strain to her the voice on the other end. "I'm sorry, Kam, you're breaking up, just hold on moment." 

Han nodded at Luke as the Jedi Master slipped out of the vehicle to get a better signal, leaving Leia and him alone. 

~ ~ ~ 

Luke walked a few meters from the cab and the signal on his comm cleared. "It's fine now. What were you saying? 

The voice of Kam Solusar came over the comm.. "The temple contacts have been receiving reports of protests outside the Senate, Luke, and some are becoming rather violent--" 

"A protest is nothing of too much concern, Kam. I'm sure will be fine," Luke replied. He was thankful for Kam's concern, but he didn't understand why the Jedi Knight considered it so important. 

"Luke, they aren't protesting the initiative for the most part. They're protesting you and Leia." 

Luke quieted for a moment. "Go on." 

"There have been rumors of factions that might consider eliminating both of you from the picture, forcefully," Kam said, his tone grave even through the comm distortions. 

In a moment of realization and Force-sense, Luke felt a huge weight dump on his shoulders as her saw what was going to happen. He turned at the sound of revving engines, only to find the cab was gone. 

- - -


	8. These Bad Feelings

As Luke's presence left the car, that all too familiar silence fell. Leia found it strange how a man with no Force-sensitivity could exude such a feeling around her - one of cold regret. Han, however, seemed to manage it nonetheless.   
  
Leia tapped her finger on her datapad, finding that the simple sound radiated in the cabin of the taxi and fell into sync with her heartbeat, which seemed to have an unusually agitated rhythm.   
  
She was tempted to hum, but figured that it would be too obvious that she was trying to fill the unruly silence. It bothered her, it was more vexing than people yelling, and it was the place where negative emotions hung in the air. There was anger, pain, regret, and sorrow in this quiet space, all of which she wished would go away.   
  
She would prefer them to mask themselves, these bad feelings, put themselves under the guise of something easier to deal with. Facing them meant she'd have to think about what caused it all, and that was a place to avoid.   
  
"Could you stop that? It's bugging the hell out of me," Han said, interrupting her thoughts and pulling on his collar once again.   
  
Leia stopped tapping her finger; though the fact that it perturbed him made her want to continue with new fervor. Somehow, annoying him would make her feel better, though she new that was a childish trick of amusement.   
  
She wished that he wasn't there, then she could think in peace. Right now, his very presence just put her off. She knew she blamed him - blamed him for making her think she loved him long ago, blamed him for that one night, blamed him for not stopping her from marrying Isolder, and at the moment, she blamed him for making the silence unbearable.   
  
"Are you prepared?" she asked, saying the first thing that came to mind.   
  
He nodded. "Yeah, I've got your song and dance number down to a science."   
  
Leia noticed the cabby nervously glancing back at them from the front seat, and then glancing at the chrono. She ignored it and the temptation to counter Han's comment.   
  
"That's comforting," she replied.   
  
She leaned over a little to try and look out the door and see Luke, but her view was blocked by the angle. She sighed and plopped back in her seat, praying that Luke would rejoin them soon.   
  
As she set her head back against the seat, the door slammed shut and locked. Leia and Han both sat erect, immediately looking to the cabby who slammed on the accelerator, sending Leia hurtling backward into Han.   
  
"What the hell!" Han shouted in confusion.   
Leia took a deep breath as she sat up, pulling herself off of Han and tugging at the door handle next to her. It was sealed shut.   
  
Her head mulled through the options as she tried to break one of the windows. They were sealed into the cabin going at least eighty kilometers an hour and still accelerating. If they jump they might get hit, if they try and take control of the car, the cabby might run them into something, and if they sit still she had a feeling they wouldn't be any better off.   
  
"Do you have a blaster?!" Leia yelled at Han, as she now focused her energy on breaking the transparisteel separating the cabin from the driver.   
  
"No, but he does!" Han called back, attempting to help her in her cause as the window lowered itself and the cabby tried to aim the blaster while driving.   
  
The two diplomats ducked and the cabby's shot ricocheted of the durasteel lining of the left hand door's window, only to puncture the cushioning of the seat next to Han.   
  
The hovercar banked right as the cabby tried to weave between the lanes, sending Han and Leia crashing into the left side of the vehicle.   
  
Leia's shoulder was crushed under her and Han's body weight, and the pain shot up her arm as Han moved to try and take the blaster from the driver.   
  
The car banked left, but Leia held onto the car door handle to hold herself to that side while Han fell onto the right, ripping his uniform.   
  
"I could use a little help over here," Han yelled from the front of the cabin, struggling with the cabby for the blaster.   
  
"I'm coming," Leia screamed back, the noise of the engines accelerating making it difficult to hear.   
  
The driver hit off another shot and Leia ducked in the space between the forward and backseats as the shot when through the floor.   
  
"Gods! Keep that thing pointing up!" Leia said, coming up beside Han.   
  
"It's not like I have much of a choice," he retorted, as she tried to press the cabby's arm against the edge of the transparasteel.   
  
The driver banked left again and Leia didn't have time to steady herself. She grabbed for something solid to hang onto but couldn't get hold and the force of the manoeuvre sent her flying to the right side, her head making hard contact with a door handle.   
Her vision was blurry as she looked up to find Han looking over at her. The distraction afforded the cabby a window of opportunity and he shot Han in the shoulder.   
  
The last thing Leia saw was a stun beam throwing Han back against the seat before she went unconscious. 


	9. A Free Vacation

A soft, dim light welcomed Han's eyes as his lids floated up over them. He blinked repeatedly as the source of the dull illumination came into view, making his acquaintance with his surroundings a little better.   
  
The room was gray and chilly with a small, nearly burnt-out light bulb set into the ceiling, affording the room its only elucidation. With the shadows the bulb cast, Han could make out the lining of a door on the wall opposing the one his neck was bent against. The whole room was pure transparasteel.   
  
Han pressed his elbows into the ground and attempted to lift him self further off the floor only to find that his left shoulder didn't like this idea. It gave out underneath him and he let out a grunt as his upper body made harsh contact with the glacial ground.   
  
As his bit back the pain, his head fell to one side, and his gaze came upon the figure of Leia, a bruised cut slashed across her forehead from the center to the slender end of her right eyebrow. She lay unconscious a meter or so to his right, her breath shallow and her frame curled in a fetal position as she shook lightly, her dress providing no warmth in the frigid room.   
  
The entire the universe plopped right back into place, and Han remembered what had gotten him to this smallish gray chamber. A little vacation led to a little politics, led to little ride in a cab, led to a little kidnaping. One problem lead to another and next thing you know you're in for it: the story of his life.   
  
He endeavored again to sit up, adjusting his position so as to put very little weight on his damaged joint. He pulled himself erect against the wall behind him. Taking in the room from a higher point of view, he took a deep breath as he felt a pull on all his cells - a familiar sense of departure that he'd known almost all his life. They were exiting hyperspace.   
  
The knowledge that they were leaving hyperspace was not at all comforting, that meant without a shadow of a doubt that they were on a ship. This was decidedly bad news. Ships move, and a little known fact is moving makes one harder to catch. This was not necessarily the kind of news he was looking for. The news that they were on a big red space station in the shape of an X which broadcasted "We've got Han Solo and Leia Organa in here," would have been more helpful.   
  
Of course, had that been the case, Han would have been less glad at being rescued and more embarrassed at having been kidnapped by beings with that calibre of intelligence in the first place.   
  
Han looked over at Leia again. She was out cold and the gash on her forehead didn't look pretty. He scooted over along the wall until he was nearly touching her prostrate form, and ripped of a piece of his already torn uniform, wetting the strip of fabric with his mouth then dabbing it along the edged of the cut, attempting to clean it.   
  
It had been a long time since he'd done this, attending to wounds - if one discounted the cuts and scrapes that Jacen came home with every once in a while. The last time he'd played medic was on the battle fields of the war with the Empire all those years ago, when he'd still had some real life left in him. It was strange to be caring for someone like this again, to have the kind of contact you have when you truly want to quell another being's pain, when you want to mend them.   
  
Mentioning that kind of feeling and the name Leia in the same sentence seemed to be a contradiction in terms, and yet it festered in Han, near that place in his chest he might have called his heart before this day. Now he wanted to label it 'The Rebel', a piece of him which won't shut up and stay put. The place in him which wanted to live in that all too distant past, where it might have grown and flourished, before the galaxy, and Leia, and Han himself caged it.   
  
Han noticed Leia's breaths become deeper, her eyes moving faster from side to side under her lids until they fluttered open, squinting minutely under the dim light. She seemed to look up at the ceiling, trying to remember the happenings which had brought her to the dismal room in which she lay.   
  
Han pulled the cloth away from her cut, allowing her to sit up a little a rest herself on her elbows. He could only hope against hope that the impact which accompanied the wound he'd been attending to, didn't knock out anything more than her consciousness. Dealing with Leia was bad enough - dealing with a Leia who didn't know who she was wouldn't be any easier.   
  
"Where are we?" she asked him as she pulled herself further off the floor and leaned her upper body against the wall.   
  
"Your guess is as good as mine," Han replied, handing Leia the rag he'd been using on her. "The best I can give you is we're on a ship of some kind."   
  
Leia took the piece of cloth from Han and gave him a strange look. He pointed to her forehead as an answer, and she felt around for what he motioned at, gritting her teeth as she found the open cut.   
  
"I don't hear any engines. What makes you think we're off-world?" she asked, attempting to clean the cut she couldn't see and not doing very well.   
  
"Here," Han said faked irritation, taking the cloth and resuming his previous task. "We came out of hyperspace about ten minutes ago, and since the sublights haven't kicked in, I'm guessing the pilot's using inertia and gravity to get us into orbit somewhere."   
  
The ship shuddered under them as Han finished, and the two both looked up as the light shook, flickering on and off.   
  
"I stand corrected," Han amended, "We're now landing."   
  
"Wonderful," Leia said, echoing Han's unspoken sentiment.   
The shuddering subsided only to be followed by a jolt that flung both Han and Leia's bodies a few inches from the place where they sat. It was a little painful for the both, but it was a sure sign they'd landed.   
  
Han moved his shoulder in a circular motion, trying to improve the circulation and relieve some of the tension built up from the shot itself and the following trauma, including the jarring touch down the rickety vessel they inhabited had made.   
  
"You okay?" he asked, as Leia stretched her neck.   
  
"I'm fine," Leia said, using her arm to pull the kinks out of her levator scapulae.   
  
Han and Leia looked towards the door of the chamber as it slid open, revealing a motley crew of assorted species, wearing sparse armor and holding impressive weaponry at the ready. This was a sight neither of them had been looking forward to.   
  
"Up," the apparent leader of the lot commanded, speaking it as more of a statement than anything.   
  
Han stood up clumsily, his legs stiff from an extended amount of inactivity, and his shoulder not willing to do its part in helping him to his feet. He then took Leia's hand as she supported her weight with the wall, and aided her in standing.   
  
The minions, who had surrounded the speaker, made their way towards the dignitaries, taking Han by the arm, pulling down on his already pained shoulder. They led him and Leia out of the chamber quietly.   
  
Han picked up as many details as he could while they made there way down this compact metal hallways of the vessel. It was dank and dirty, in a way that would make the [i]Falcon[/i] blush, boasting a smell that reminded Han of dead Tauntauns.   
  
By the time they'd reached and passed the galley, Han had come to the conclusion that these guys weren't the real captors. These were mercenaries, petty thieves and smugglers who had gotten into the wrong side of the business.   
  
Though it wasn't good news to know that whoever was looking for them would have a harder time finding them, it was comforting to know that they hadn't been kidnapped by people who Han wouldn't have associated with voluntarily in his smuggling days, let alone the present. These kinds of people didn't have the ambition for a job like this on their own, or the means to pull it off. That came from people higher up, people with either ambition or a cause. In the worst case scenario, they'd have both.   
  
The group made their way out of the ship and onto a dirt path leading towards a rudimentary installation of sorts, surrounded by a low wall which met directly with the encircling forest. As far as Han could see, the green of trees spanned out from the landing pad, which was encrusted in a thin layer of moss.   
  
Han and Leia were escorted up several flights of stairs and through a hallway to a side of the instalment, which opposed the landing pad, until they came upon a short row of cells, each with an occupant save for one. Though the others appeared to be filled with deviant members of the group, there was no doubt that the end cell was to hold two more important borders: the Queen Mother of Hapes and her Admiral companion.   
  
The two were thrust rather forcefully into the cell, the barred doors closing behind them as they fell to the ground.   
  
Han rolled onto his back, too exhausted to get up again, and inhaled deeply, shifting his head to the side to see Leia hunched over and trying to steady herself. Her breath was difficult.   
  
"I thought I'd gotten passed the point where I pissed people off like this," Han said, his head floating back to bring his eyes to focus on the ceiling, finding a point of balance.   
  
"I don't think you'll ever loose that quality," Leia replied, rolling over to sit and rest her weight on her elbows once again.   
  
Han ignored her comment, "Remind me to say no next time I'm offered a free vacation." 


	10. The Walls That Cage You

"New reports are surfacing about the recent kidnapings of two members of the Military Strengthening Act. After Queen Leia Organa of Hapes and Admiral Han Solo failed to arrive at the scheduled Senate address early yesterday, the New Republic officials were notified that Lady Organa and Admiral Solo had been abducted just outside the Queen's apartment a half an hour before the planned address by a mercenary dressed as a cab driver. Sources tell us that Luke Skywalker, brother of the missing Queen and leader of the Jedi, may also have been target. The Holonet News has also been informed that no ransom has been requested and that there are few leads as to whom the parties behind the abduction might be. I'm Gajiit Janiwell, and this has been Galactic News Tonight."  
  
Leia turned away from the vid screen and walked over to the barred window opposite the cell doors. Outside it was still daylight, though judging by the report she'd just watched it was already night on Coruscant. She was drowsy but determined to remain awake so as to adjust to the planet's time as quickly as possible.   
  
No one had come to talk to them since they'd been thrown in their cell, no one to explain what this was all about. This fact wasn't encouraging. No ransom, no explanation, these things didn't add up to a long life span for the captive. What it meant to Leia was that these people weren't in it for the money, they were in it for the statement. Kidnaping wasn't going to make an impact if the captives are set free. It only makes an impact if the captives are killed.   
  
It was funny how some people could justify killing. Kill the few to save the many, kill a few to make the galaxy safer for the many, kill some more to make life better for the many. In this case, the argument was that more military would make the New Republic turn into the Empire, killing more people. So they want to kill to keep the killing from happening. Somewhere the logic had a screw missing, but there wasn't anyone around for Leia to point this out to.   
  
All she could think of was everything she had sitting at home that wasn't getting done, everything that was piling up that she'd have to finish once she was rescued. Suddenly being held captive wasn't sounding so bad. Or rather, it was sounding familiar.   
  
She was just as much a captive on Hapes as she was on Coruscant, and just as much a captive there as she was here. It didn't make much of a difference how she changed the setting, she was still caged. Caged on Hapes as the Queen, caged on Coruscant as the Senator, caged on this Force-forsaken world for being both.   
  
Only on this world, the bars didn't hide being carved wood desks and golden jewelry, they were plain and real and tangible. She could smell the afternoon air outside her cell, tempting her as so many things had before, trying to get her to leave her little pen behind. She could touch the metal and stone which held her, she could taste the dank, musty staleness of the air in every breath.   
  
  
  
These walls weren't a facade, and this was something she could fall in love with, something real and corporeal, it was concrete in feature as it was in principle. This was something she'd been longing for nearly all her life, something that she could never reach because of duty and responsibility, silly pretenses she new only how to uphold. This was an inkling of what it must feel like to have people genuinely ignore you instead of pretending to listen, to have your husband show you real ambiguity instead of feigning a smile. To be allowed to see, touch, and smell the walls that cage you so you know their nature.   
  
Maybe freedom wouldn't mean so much if you were shown what really held you down. Maybe it would be easier to accept your fate, if you could at least see what the boundaries were. Maybe life would be clearer if you only new how far you could go, how far you were allowed, when to stop, when to give up and move on.   
  
For Leia, knowing why she'd gotten to where she was, knowing why she can't go any further, and why she wont, meant everything. These were the walls she wanted to see, but she'd covered them long ago with a facade of acceptance which smelt of regret. It was too much effort to pull the paint off, to take off the adornments and see what they were, it would cost her too much to face what they meant. She had already chosen her path, it was no use trying to remember what she'd given up to do so.   
  
Leia lowered her head and sighed, her eyes inadvertently falling on Han, who was removing the pin from his tattered uniform and attempting to put a kind of tool together. Whether it was supposed to be a weapon of a lock pick she couldn't tell, but she couldn't complain either, she hadn't been of much use in the escape planning department and making a crack at him for his efforts would only bring that to light.   
  
In the sunlight, Leia saw a glimmer reflect off the bars of the window, looking down at her dress, now torn and disheveled around her, and she found the pin which was meant to look as though it held her skirt up. She pulled it off, yanking a piece of fabric with it. It didn't bother her, she wasn't overly concerned with the dress anyway.   
  
"Will this help?" she asked, handing Han the pin and crouching down next to him. This was almost a peace offering, since she wasn't sure how to broach conversation now that they didn't really have any information left to share and she wasn't rich with escape plans. Anything that wasn't a necessity to divulge would be difficult to get across at all. Neither of them had ever wanted to make conversation with one another, now they didn't have any other options.  
  
"Yeah, if I new what the hell I was doing," Han replied, still fiddling with the medals that had once adorned his jacket in honor, the way she new he'd always hated them to. He took the pin anyway.   
  
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not any nearer to getting us out either," Leia said, sitting herself down.   
  
"How's that supposed to make me feel better?" Han asked, his tone a little agitated. Han sighed, "I'm not even supposed to be here. I should be taking Jacen to a theme park or something right now, not locked up in the gods know where."  
  
  
  
"You don't think I'd rather be someplace else?" Leia asked, though she wasn't totally sure on her own answer to that question, "I could be spending what little time I can with Anakin." Leia stood up and walked back over to the window, leaning against the wall beside it, facing the cell door.   
  
"Don't forget old Iron Skull, you could be with your darling husband right now to," Han said, his voice gruff and angry.   
  
"Don't even think for one minute that I'm taking that comment seriously. Isolder isn't stupid, Han, and he's a far greater gentleman than you'll ever be," Leia countered.  
  
Han stood up. "Oh, hit me where it hurts, my courtesy," he said sarcastically.  
  
"Why do you have to turn everything into an argument?" Leia asked in frustration.  
  
"Me? Me? Gods, Leia, are you even hearing yourself?" Han yelled.   
  
"My hearing is just fine, Solo," Leia said, her words almost descending to a hollow growl.   
  
Han turned away, breathing heavily. He kicked the paneling in front of him in indignation, as though he hoped to quell his temper in the act, but as he did so he became aware of a hollow sound echoing through the wall behind the paneling, and he saw a metal panel jarred loose with a dent from his foot in it.   
  
A guard walked over and peeked in at the noise, scanning the room but finding nothing out of order and returning to his post.   
  
"That's so typical," Han called at Leia, mimicking his previous tone.   
  
Leia turned to him and gave him a strange look, though the word annoyed might have described it sufficiently, "What?"  
  
Han motioned with his eyes for her to look at the panel as he tapped it lightly with his foot, allowing a quiet echo to reverberate through the walls, "That's so typical of you."  
  
Leia nodded, "Typical? Gods, Han, you're insufferable. What the hell do you mean, typical?"  
  
Han's face went blank for a moment as they both crouched down near the paneling. He obviously hadn't really thought of where he as going with the "typical" bit, "You know exactly what I mean," he said in an apparent attempt to hand over control of the pretend argument to Leia.   
  
Leia rolled her eyes as they shook the panel loose, "Oh do I?" she yelled, loud enough for the guard to hear her.   
  
  
  
The panel came off and she gazed into it, seeing a damp, dank little duct big enough to fit a human. That was all she needed to know.   
  
"Yeah, you do," Han replied, making eye contact with Leia as they conferred what they were putting together in there heads, "Oh, forget it," he yelled in pseudo-anger, "you'll never understand."  
  
~ ~ ~  
  
Night had fallen and a solemn moon had pushed through the sky to it's climax, dimly lighting the forests below.   
  
"Are you ready?" Han asked, his make shift weapon in his hand, helping to pry away the panel from the wall as quickly as possible.  
  
Leia pulled the jacket Han had given to her close around her, "As ready as ever."  
  
Han nodded. The panel had been a Force-send, and a testament to the poor architecture employed by their captors: a ventilation shaft right behind holding cells with thin walls is not very intelligent design.   
  
Preliminary scouting had told them that there was a grate about twenty meters over from where they were, and they could get through that and out of here. Granted, they had no idea where to go once they got out, but one step at a time.   
  
They pulled the grate up and winced as the noise of metal on metal rebounded along the walls. It was quiet enough not to be a problem, but every little noise was a distraction.  
  
Han went into the shaft second, turning around in the cramped space to pull the panel back onto the wall behind them, and sealing them in the near complete darkness. He turned back around with a little difficulty, and they crawled slowly and quietly down the tubing.   
  
Without warning, a of water pushed past Han, rushing him forward and into Leia, then further along the shaft, too quickly to control the sounds. He hadn't counted on this, the ventilation was self cleaning, and there timing was very bad.   
  
The water had an acrid smell, and it pushed the two of them along as they bounced against the wall of the shaft, giving away there presence to all who would desire to know.   
  
Han cursed as the water receded, leaving Leia and himself in view of the grate, they could still make it.   
  
They crawled with new fervor as they head paneling being removed behind them, their captors coming after them.   
  
  
  
They made it to the grate and Han gave Leia back her pin as they both attempted to pry open the seals. When the tools had loosened the seals, they crawled backward and began kicking at the grating, kicking towards the freedom outside.   
  
The grate came loose as the blaster fire began to ring through the tubing. Han sighed in what might be considered relief at the sound: they were to stun.   
  
Han and Leia stepped out onto a rocky ledge as they heard crawling behind them, and they looked below to find themself above a vast waterfall.   
  
They looked at each other, then behind them.   
  
With one titan leap, the two jumped over the edge and let the air carry them. 


	11. Grab a Rock

Han had gotten used to the lack of adventure in his life, the lack of thrills and excitement, it had become an accepted thing for him now, to just patrol uneventful borders and scan the galaxy's edges for nothing but dust and stray matter. He'd been doing it for nearly seven years now, and with Jacen off at the academy most of the time, it was the best distraction he could find.   
  
Being an admiral wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Han had always thought of the job as for those who couldn't fight face to face, those who had to tell others to do the simplest tasks because they couldn't be bothered to complete them themselves. After the Battle of Yavin he'd gotten some perspective, even admired a few of the commanders he'd had a chance to meet with since his "heroics" at the Death Star, and was glad to work closely with most when he was named a General in the New Republic fleet.   
  
But these were wartime Admirals, men of logic, tactics, and honor, things that Han had never considered himself in great possession of. The difference between what those men had been, and what Han had become was as gargantuan as the distance from the Core to Tatooine. They had fought and won battles many times over, this was something to be put on a pedestal and trumpeted across the free worlds. These were the kind of men that Han would have thought the closest to nobles, the kind of men he now found himself seeing for the opposite side of the spectrum. The aspect of the lonely, the useless, the pathetic men who hold the title because of popularity of the people rather than their deeds for the New Republic.   
  
This was how it was, this was something that had been for so long that Han had gotten over feeling sorry for himself, and hating what he had become, he'd just stomached his position and set his eyes to the future, where all he saw was growing old, growing into that old man he's always new he'd be eventually. Only the old man he saw now was small and withering, unhappy and dying with every breath.   
  
He'd come to terms with this all so long ago. He saw himself as mature and accepting in that he wasn't going to fight what he thought as the inevitable. The truth that he wouldn't let himself think about was that he was giving up, and he had been for a long time. He'd started losing his determination when Bria died, robbing his son of the chance to know truly know his father just as fate had robbed the boy of knowing his mother. When he lost Leia, he simply gave up completely.   
  
He hadn't truly lost Leia, though, and she hadn't left him either. It was the masquerade that had separated them, it was fear and guilt and responsibility to things neither of them could control. It was both there faults, and the fact that neither of them would risk so much for something they couldn't see the truth in, though they ended up risking happiness nonetheless.   
  
Han blamed Leia outwardly, there wasn't anywhere else he could direct his anger if he didn't. It was himself who he despised in truth, and it was her he was angry about. His twisted logic allowed him to think that because she caused his to hate what he was, then maybe she deserved his anger, maybe he was right in hating her. This wasn't true, but it didn't have to be.   
  
  
  
Anger and hate and guilt, those were all the reasons that he was who and what he was now. He was a father to a son he loved but hadn't allowed himself to be sincerely close to; he was an admiral who hadn't fought with his men in years and couldn't remember their names; he was a widow of twelve years who couldn't let go of his wife's memory even if it meant his and his son's happiness; he was already a stubborn old man who wouldn't let the past rest so he could begin a future.   
  
That was why he'd lost his adventure: himself. Life had become one big distraction because of him, something to do so he wouldn't have to think about why he was where he was, or why he didn't want to think about it in the first place.   
  
He knew now why he'd been avoiding his own thoughts for so long: they were all too painful and too truthful to take. If he thought about these things, then he'd know, then he'd be responsible to live with all the things he'd been shutting out for so long. Ignorance was bliss, and he wanted to remain in whatever state of assumed bliss he could manage.   
  
The last eight hours had not afforded him that luxury.   
  
After the jump, he and Leia found themselves falling towards the end of the waterfall, where it met with the horizontal surface of the water hole below. Once they made contact with the water and floated to the surface, they had had to move quickly to evade the guards which were no doubt coming around to meet them. The two diplomats found a cave behind the waterfall and several meters above the ground which gave them shelter though not much else.   
  
They had to stay put, if they moved, the guards could track them by their footprints. All they could do was wait till the dispatched left, though they had no idea how long that was going to be.   
  
That had been eight hours earlier, and with Leia off on her side of the damp cave, and Han unwilling to disturb her, he found himself with nothing to distract himself, nothing to shield him from his own thoughts.   
  
Though the comforting thing was that now that he'd gone through his whole repertoire of enclosed thoughts, he now found a certain sense of peace, an inkling of closure. He could feel a tiny epiphany hiding in his head but waiting to present itself, and he was almost sure he had the patience to wait for it.   
  
"They're leaving," Leia wispered, interrupting Han's musings.   
  
Han looked up from his hands, his neck feeling a bit sore from holding his head in the same position for extended amounts of time, "Good."  
  
He stretched his neck for a moment, his hand pulling on his shoulder, trying to loosen the knots that were popping up along his muscles. It was refreshing to think that they'd been out of the dank little outcropping in a few minutes after having breathed it's moist air for so long.   
  
  
  
It occurred to Han that they still didn't have much of an idea as to who was after them, and though there was a lot of pieces in Han's head, he couldn't put them together right. The holonet report had said that there was no ransom, which meant that he and Leia would most likely be killed, but the minions who were sent after them had their blasters set on stun, meaning they didn't want to permanently harm them, so there had to be some reason to keep them alive.   
  
"Leia?" Han asked as they climbed along the rocks and out from behind the gushed of water, making their way toward the grassy forest floor.  
  
"Yes?" she said back to him as she hopped from the small ledge onto the ground.   
  
"Can you contact Luke," He continued, "through the Force, I mean."  
  
"Yes, it would take a bit of effort, but once we're somewhere where we can rest I was goi to give it a–"  
  
"Don't," Han interrupted, "whatever you do, don't contact him."  
  
"What? Why?" Leia asked, a little confused.  
  
"Because he's the reason we're still alive," Han replied, "if you were dead, he'd feel it, right?"   
  
Leia nodded.  
  
"And he wouldn't come looking for us if he felt you go, cause he'd assume we were both gone," Han recommenced, "and these guys, whoever they are, they were after him too, and we're the bait until they catch him."  
  
"And then we're all dead," Leia finished for him.   
  
"That's the idea," Han replied.   
  
"I think these guys are the ones who think that Luke and I are going to turn the New Republic into the Empire," Leia added, "They've been threatening me with stuff like this for ages, I never thought they'd go through with it." She put her hands on her face and rubbed her forehead a little, minding the cut which was still healing there.   
  
"It seems to me like they were serious," Han said, leaning up against the rock wall to his side. "Alright, so we can't let Luke no where we are, otherwise he'll come, and there's no guarantee that he'd ever leave. So no Luke, and no Jedi, no kids, and no husbands, cause they'd all talk."  
  
"What exactly does that leave us?" Leia asked.  
  
"Chewie," Han replied, scanning the ground in front of him for a rock, then picking up a good sized one when his eyes fell on it.   
  
  
  
"Chewie? I'd have about as much luck in contacting his through the Force as [i]you[/i] would," Leia said, almost laughing.   
  
"Not the Force," Han replied, dusting off his stone.   
  
"Then what are we supposed to use?" Leia asked.  
  
"Grab a rock," Han said, walking past her and toward the direction the guards had gone.   
  
"Did you hit your head?" Leia asked, though she still bent to pit up a rock and follow him.   
  
"Just follow me," Han replied.  
  
Leia picked up her rock and headed to catch up with him. "I'm afraid to." 


	12. A Relatively WinWin Situation

Leia peered out from behind the native shrubbery, scanning the immediate area as the guard glanced in the opposite direction. It would take a few more moments for his group to be the right distance away: far enough that if her should make any noise, they wouldn't hear him.   
  
She pulled her head back behind the cover as the guard returned his gaze to his front and continued his search of the area. He was average height for a humanoid male, as far as Leia could tell, and it wouldn't take much for Han and herself to hold him down if the initial shot didn't knock him out. Though it would be better for him if he went out with a single blow, considering that he'd feel a second one.   
  
Giving a nod to Han, she handed him the stone she'd acquired at the beginning of this particular escapade, when she was still voicing some objections to Han's relatively bad plan. The idea was to knock out the guard they'd followed, and take the comm he most likely had with him (considering the rather organized nature of their captors to this point). This was all fine and dandy, however, Leia wasn't convinced that the second half of this idea was worth the risk.   
  
After obtaining the comm unit (and any other useful tidbits the guard's pack might offer), Han proposed that they use this to contact Chewie, knowing full well that this would give away their position in an instant to any idiot on world or in orbit. When Leia had asked how they would manage to get far enough away from their original position after the message was sent, Han simply replied, "Run."  
  
This was by no means an encouraging thought, taking into account that they were both injured to a certain degree, and neither energy or moral was on a high note. However, with two options to choose from, and one being to surrender, Leia had given up on thinking in a completely rational mind and figured it easier to go along and blame Han later should the attempt blow up in their faces. It was beginning to look like a relatively win-win situation.  
  
Leia lifted her hand into clear view of Han, bringing her first three fingers up one by one as she mouthed the words "one...two...three."   
  
As the third finger rose, the two jumped up in tandem, Han aiming quickly as the guard still stood in surprise, and throwing the rather heavy stone directly at the man's head. The guard's head snapped back fast then fell with the rest of his body to the ground, a resounding thump accompanying the impact.   
  
Leia ran out from behind the bush, coming up beside the body as she kneeled, rolling the man onto his side so she could detach his backpack. She checked his pulse after laying the pack over to one side, and finding it steady she took a look at the mark on his forehead which lay just between his eyes. For all hi shortcomings, Han Solo was a decent shot.   
  
"Will he be alright?" Han asked, crouching near the pack and opening it.  
  
"Yeah, he'll have a hell of a headache, but the gash isn't very deep and his breathing is steady," Leia replied. She turned to Han as he took a comm unit out of the guard's pack.   
  
  
  
Leia picked up the pack from Han as he began to fiddle with the controls on the comm, and she rummaged through the bag to see if there was anything they could use. The pack held some emergency rations, an overcoat for harsher weather, and other miscellaneous items necessary for a job on a relatively untamed world.   
  
She found a small took kit and handed it to Han, hoping that it would aide him in modifying the comm, since he didn't appear to be having the best of luck with his bare hands. The last time she and Han had worked together like this had been at the Battle of Endor over a decade earlier, trying to get the door to the shield generator open. That was before Bria died, before everything started to go wrong, back when she still wouldn't change her mind about him being a scoundrel and a worthless smuggler. Though she had to admit that most of the banter and hatred had been a childish facade, just something to hide the fact that she didn't really mind him that much, maybe even liked him a little.  
  
She had been so young then, so naive in many ways compared to the woman she was now. It had been her goal to help people, to right every wrong she saw around her, and some that she couldn't see. She had been able to accept almost everything, from the destruction of Alderaan, to the death of Obi-wan Kenobi.   
  
This was the simple attitude she had once had, this was the ideal in it's purest form. This was what would later mutate, change into what she had become. Her acceptance had come to the point where she would no longer try to change even the things she might be able to, just as her desire to help had led her to give so much of herself to others that there wasn't much left of what she was. It was strange how her innocence had come and gone over the years so subtly that she hadn't even noticed it's passing.   
  
"Leia?" Han asked, breaking into her thoughts as her shook by the shoulder, "You've been staring at the ground for the last five minutes."  
  
Leia shook her head clear, "Sorry, I'm just a little tired, that's all." She turned back to her search of the pack.   
  
As she reached her hand in to pull the last of the pack's contents out, her fingers clasped a datapad. Pulling it out quickly, she silently thanked the Force, "We've got a map."  
  
She looked over the contents of the datapad as Han watched over her shoulder, finding maps of the surface, several caves, and a star chart for the sector they were in. They were on the third planet of the Hodan system, in the Farlax Sector only a few parsec from Galantos. Now they could tell Chewie exactly where to find them.  
  
"Can you get that thing to work?" Leia asked, still combing through the datapad's files.   
  
"It's running on minimal power, all it needs for on planet communications, but if we want this thing to give us anymore than 10 seconds of recording time, the message won't make it to Coruscant," Han said as he took out a piece of the comm's insides.   
  
  
  
"Great. You think we can we get this all in within 10 seconds?" Leia asked.  
  
"No, not likely, the best we can do is tell Chewie we're all right and hope he can track the signal," Han replied.  
  
Leia gave a long exhale, glancing back at the datapad, it's display showing map of the surrounding area. She sat up straighter as her eyes came into contact with a useful landmark, "There's a hangar just east of the landing pad we arrived on," she said, pointing out the building on the map, "We could borrow something from there."  
  
Han looked down over her shoulder, "We'd have to walk around the perimeter here," he said, running his finger around the edge of the installment, "but we could probably make it by tonight."  
  
Leia nodded. Since their captors wouldn't expect them to head in that direction because it brings them back through risky territory, they had a better chance of avoiding any unwanted entanglements. It was there best shot as of yet.   
  
"Do you want to talk or should I?" Han asked as he held up the modified comm unit.  
  
"You do it," Leia said, "I'm sure Chewie'd rather hear you voice than mine."  
  
Han nodded as Leia put all of the stuff back into the guard's bag, closing it and making ready to run in the general direction of the hanger as soon as Han finished his message.   
  
Leia watched in silence as Han spoke into the comm, giving Chewie his quickest medai before shutting the comm off, and stuffing it the pack as the two of them made a run for it. 


	13. Don't Tell Luke

Luke Skywalker sat down at the head of a long, glossed wood table, it's surface reflecting the solemn faces which hovered above it, tinting them in it's red brown hue. This wasn't a courtesy meeting, this wasn't a diplomatic convention, this wasn't exactly something that he was prepared for. This was a gathering of friends, only it was the kind he never wanted to call.   
  
He nodded across the table at Chewbacca, the Wookiee tipping his head towards Luke in response. Chewie's eyes gave away his exhaustion, having spent the last few days without sleep, searching for his friend. The results had been minimal, a fact that wasn't at all encouraging.  
  
As he scanned the rest of the room, checking to see if all those invited had taken their seats, Luke began, "I doesn't look good," he said, for lack of a better beginning. He could have put it softly, but this was a group of people he'd known for so long that it seemed almost condescending to do so.  
  
"But she's not dead, yes?" Isolder leaned forward in his chair. The Hapan Prince's imposing figure lay a shadow across the table in front of him as his question reached his brother-in-law's ears. He's arrived the day before with Tenenial Djo, the Jedi escort Luke had assigned him, and was more than eager to find his wife. Though Luke new the two were not lovers, there was respect and a certain level of devotion between them that was not hard to see.   
  
"No, she's not dead," Luke replied, as relived to hear his own words as the rest of the room, "and there's a good chance that since Leia's alive, that Han is too."  
  
"I don't even understand this," Lando Calrissian said, gesturing his confusion with his hands, "there's no ransom set, they aren't dead, what exactly was the point of this?"  
  
Chewie howled a reply.  
  
Lando exhaled, "If this is all we know, we're not going to do them any good."  
  
He was right, Luke new, but his accuracy in no way aided them. They were lost, despite all the resources available to them. Chewie and Lando could milk an information dealer in the galaxy and Luke could search the entire NRI database and they wouldn't be any better off. Even Luke's Jedi senses couldn't pinpoint his sister's position, not out of the seemingly infinite space she could inhabit. He had the most useless feeling in the world. Years ago he'd taken down an Empire, now he couldn't save his own sister and best friend.   
  
"What we need in something concrete, we need names and faces," Luke said, "we can't find them based on what we've got, we have to know who has them and where they are."  
  
"I will begin looking into the groups apposing her proposition," Isolder said, assuming a place amongst the hierarchy of rescuers.   
  
"I'll set up a meeting with Karrde's people, see if they got wind of anything worth knowing," Lando piped in.   
  
  
  
Chewie growled, voicing his intention to follow any leads they had on the cabby who took the two dignitaries captive.   
  
Luke nodded, "I'm already in contact with the NRI, and they've agreed to give me any resources I might need as far as information. If any of you find anything, send it immediately to the rest of us." He stood up, coming to his full height, however unimpressive it might be, and straightened his posture, "Something tells me we don't have a lot of time, let's get them back before it runs out."  
  
- - -  
  
Chewbacca slipped into the galley as quietly as he could manage at his size, making his way past the [i]Falcon's[/i] ventilation controls and toward the beds. With Han gone, the ship had fallen silent, no repairs or revisions on her hull or interior, just an echo at every footstep. It was almost saddening to the Wookiee, who'd only known the vessel when it was in need of some doctoring, or at least when Han thought it did.   
  
The ship had been a great catharsis for the old smuggler and his co-pilot, one that Chewie wouldn't dream of letting go, but he couldn't find it in him to work on her without Han to yell at him to try again or change something. Besides, the old bucket of bolts wasn't worth working on alone, you wouldn't have anyone to blame it on if something blew up.  
  
Chewie looked down at the sleeping figure on the corner bed in the crews quarters: Jacen. The boy was slumbering where Han used to reside back when he and Chewie ran spice from one corner of the galaxy to the other. With his father gone, Jacen refused to wait idly at the Jedi Academy, biding for news. The Wookiee had thought himself of stronger will, but Jacen gave him one look and Chewie took him to Coruscant.  
  
To tell the truth, he was glad to have Jacen aboard, at least then he could keep tabs on the boy, who would no doubt mount his own, solitary search for his father if given the slightest chance. And if he wasn't going to be exercising his life debt to Han, he was determined to employ it with Jacen.  
  
A persistant beep broke into Chewie's thoughts, and the Wookiee look over to the wall to see the ships comm unit blinking. He got up and headed for the cockpit so as to take the message without waking Jacen.   
  
Chewie flipped the switch to play the message, and a broken but familiar voice played:  
  
"Chewie, it's Han, I can't talk right now but I'll send another message later, track the signal. Whatever you do, don't tell Luke."  
  
  
  
With a few quick finger movement, Chewie tried to reverse the signal he received and send a message back, but there wasn't a comm signal on the other end, it was off. He made one last attempt to track the signal sent to him, retracing the energy's path, but found it was too thin. The realization that Han was alive was refreshing, the realization that he still couldn't do anything about it was an entirely different story.  
  
The only important information he'd gotten about the kidnappings, and he couldn't do what he had been instructed only hours earlier. Han had been very specific: "Don't tell Luke."  
  
All he could do was wait for the second message Han had mentioned, other than that, he and everyone else who cared about Han and Leia were in the exact same situation as before: lost. 


	14. What's a Junjat?

Han yawned as his eyes fluttered open, his vision ruled by the green of trees jutting up into a azure sky, the foreign sound of native wildlife giving depth to the world around him as he came to full consciousness. He shifted to his side, letting his head roll onto his left ear, his eyes almost in line with the ground so that when his gaze fell upon the back of Leia's head, she seemed further in distance than he had remembered.  
  
It hadn't been a dream. He was laying on the rocky, moss ridden forest floor of a planet he'd never heard of with guard-pack rations for food and a torn, uncomfortable dress uniform for clothing. The word that his superiors had used to describe his little political venture had been "vacation." He begged to differ.   
  
The only upside was in itself the worst part of the whole situation: Leia. In truth he couldn't have asked for a better person to be stranded with, if one was judging by skill and proficiency at getting in and out of a scrape, but he'd have gladly been stranded with an inebriated Kowalkian Lizard Monkey at the North Pole of Hoth than spend time with her in any fashion.   
  
He'd spent the last eight years avoiding her and in one week those years disappeared, nothing had changed since that day so long ago when she'd made her decision, when she'd walked away to become someone else's wife. They couldn't talk without fighting unless it was necessary to their immediate survival, they couldn't and wouldn't look each other in the eye, and both were too proud to fix it.   
  
He'd screwed up royally with her, he knew. He'd asked her for more time, but he was just being a coward. What he told himself was that he wasn't over Bria, that he couldn't get over her, but somewhere he'd known it wasn't true. The guilt he'd felt all those years hadn't been about mourning Bria, somehow he'd already come to terms with her passing, it was about him defacing the love he'd had for her by loving someone else.   
  
This is what had caused his hesitation, what had lead him to that day in Leia's apartments without an answer. He couldn't offer her anything to stay for because he wouldn't admit that he loved her, not then. He had been stupid enough to ask her to stay for nothing, no guarantees, and she wouldn't. So he lost his second love that day, and she might never know it.   
  
If it was possible for one's heart to be torn into tiny, unmanageable and scattered pieces, then Han's had done it. He'd never admit it out loud, but it had hurt him even more than his wife's death, to see her walk out.   
  
In a desperate attempt he'd gone to her wedding, pacing outside the Hall of Ceremonies, waiting for the determination to enter and break it up. But when he looked into the window, seeing Leia clothed in flowing robes and sparkling jewels he had seen a smile on her face. He'd never known if it was genuine, but it had told him all he'd needed to know. She'd forgotten what they had, or was willing to, and everything he'd hoped for was crushed.   
  
  
  
He couldn't explain how much he hated her when he saw that smile, the gleeful look in her eyes. That night had meant nothing to her, that one time they'd been together, she'd already forgotten and moved on. It hurt more than anything to know that she didn't even care, he couldn't even look at her after that, not in the same way.   
  
He hated himself the most, for going all mushy over her when he should have known how it would all turn out. It was almost a good thing that Isolder had come along, otherwise he might've ended up with her and regretted it.  
  
"Why do you keep staring off like that?" Leia asked, pulling Han out of his thoughts and she fumbled through the guard's pack.   
  
"Trying to wish my way out of this mess." Han sat up and leaned his torso against the rock behind him. Somehow it was a little harder to think about hating her when she was sitting in such close proximity.   
  
"We should get moving," she said, ignoring his comment. "If the map's right then we shouldn't be more than a kilometer form the hanger." She tossed him some rations from the pack.  
  
Han caught the rations in one hand has he rubbed the back of his neck, it had a kink in it from sleeping on stone-ridden ground. His utter loathing for Leia had faded in the last few moments, leaving behind only a mild discomfort as he watched her organize the items in the guard's pack, and sling it onto her back.   
  
The two walked in silence for a quarter of an hour, giving neither any peace. The quiet between then was never a good one, it always echoed a longing or frustration which seemed to taint the air with a stale, melancholy taste. It wasn't till they heard a beasts call that either of them even gave the other a glance.  
  
"That sounded [i]very[/i] close." Han commented, standing perfectly still.   
  
Leia pulled the datapad out and checked the map on it again, zooming in on their supposed location. "Oh no...We're standing in the middle of a junjat nesting ground."  
  
"What's a junjat?" Han asked. The name didn't sound so menacing, however Leia's reaction seemed to be slightly more concerned than he liked.  
  
"Watch out!" Leia called as Han felt himself crushed to the ground. He reckoned that all this physical peril wasn't doing him any good as he felt his arm twist and his wrist joint being dislocated.   
  
The best description Han could think of for the beasts that was attacking him was the ugliest, hairiest rat he'd ever seen. Calling it a mutated, midget Wookiee would have been complimentary. However, it didn't seem to matter so much what it looked like as it did that it's claws were heading straight for Han's head.   
  
  
  
He felt his strength waning as he blocked the beast's blow, he was bleeding from some wound he couldn't locate and his breathing was becoming more sparse. He inhaled sharply as the junjat was knocked off him and he looked up to see Leia with a large rock.   
  
Han's breathing was becoming shallow as he lay amazed at the look on Leia's face: she was afraid. As she knelt to help him he saw that she was looked to be genuinely scared for him and it totally confused him. In so many years of knowing her, in missions upon missions with the Rebellion, Han had never seen the Great Princess Leia in fear. Now, after all these years, after how much they both hate each other, she didn't want to loose him. She was afraid because she cared, without a shadow of a doubt, whether she would see him open his eyes to another morning.   
  
He wanted with everything he had to lift his hand and touch her cheek, give her some kind of reassurance, some kind of gesture to tell her that he understood. It could have been the lack of oxygen going to his head, but years of animosity seemed to melt away for a moment.   
  
Leia's head spun around to looked behind her and Han watched in horror as the beast came running back at her... 


	15. Truth Could Ruin Everything

Leia protected her face with her right arm as the beast dove at her and she managed to knock it to the side, away from Han and herself for a few moments longer. She wouldn't allow an explanation to float to being in the front of her mind, she couldn't allow herself to know the reason why she felt this way.   
  
She hadn't been this terrified since the Death Star took Alderaan, since that moment of horror just before the blow when she'd known that she would never see the safe haven of her home again. What would she loose today? What threat inspired such dread under her skin?  
  
She couldn't answer that, it meant admitting to so many wrongs over her life, ones she didn't want to live up to. There was a truth she didn't want to see, regret she didn't want to have but wouldn't risk curing.   
  
The junjat gathered itself together and made a charge back in Leia's direction. She scanned her surroundings quickly, her eyes sweeping over a decent rock only to pull back and focus on it a millisecond later as she decided on a plan of action.   
  
Leia unearthed the stone, ripping it from it's soot lain bed as the animal came to her position. In a swift movement, her arm aided by gravity, she loosed her control and allowed her arm to guide the stone to it's target on the beast's forehead.   
  
As her breathing calmed from a panicked rhythm to a more stable pattern she watched the beast wriggle and writhe in small shakes before ceasing to move entirely.   
  
Leia sunk back against the stone behind her, allowing her core to calm for a moment. But, though the beast was dead and the fight over, her heart's beating remained furious. She didn't want to know why she couldn't calm it, or rather she didn't want to admit to having already known.   
  
As a breeze blew through the forest opening, her eyes fell on Han. Making her way over she surveyed the blood which soaked through the soil below as Han's chest moved up and down in shallow breaths.   
  
She ripped off a the least dinged piece of the gown she still wore, though now tattered and torn with mud and grime across it. Wrapping it around him, she didn't look up, not to his face or his eyes. It would be too painful, it was already tearing threw her to watch the blood flow from the puncture in his stomach.   
  
She was avoiding the stare that he had given her before. It seemed to know her and yet be ultimately disoriented at her presence. He'd seen something in her for those few moments, something she wouldn't admit in herself. She had seen those honest eyes before, in many people who had come to death's door and been allowed a glimpse at pure truth, allowed in their last hours to see what all their lives they'd been unaware of or unwilling to see.   
  
  
  
Luke had once told her that this was the look he had seen in their father's eyes before Anakin Skywalker passed on. He'd said that the world seemed to be revealed to him and the Force had allowed their father a precious few minutes of clarity to see all that had been a mystery to even the great Darth Vader.   
  
If Han had seen some truth within himself, she didn't desire to know. Truth could ruin everything, it could shatter years of trying to make a life out of the remains of what they'd had. Somehow, though it was two of them who'd come together nearly eight years ago, neither of them had left whole. She'd been living all this time in so many pieces, and one dose of this truth could bring down the walls of control she'd erected to maintain what was left of her composure.   
  
"Leia." Han breathed.   
  
Leia froze. His voice was faint and broken, the sound contorted at the end as he grit his teeth in pain. His utterance felt like a cold breeze brushing across her cheek, and through her, a ghost wind which threatened to take the man laying before her with it's passing. She couldn't move her lips to answer, her mouth stiff and immobile in trepidation. She couldn't even look up at him, forcing herself to ignore his call and simply dress his wound.   
  
"Leia," Han repeated, more force behind his words. She watched as his hand came to her face and guided it upward, bringing her eyes in line with his. "Listen," he inhaled heavily, "to me..."  
  
As Han was about to continue, Leia felt an alarm go off within her head and she ducked, her head laying on Han's chest for a moment as a whooshing sound went above her, accompanied within seconds by an animal squeal.   
  
She lifted her head and turned to right to find a second junjat, dead and pinned to the dirt wall by a crude wooden spear. Her head spun to the left in an effort to locate the owner of the weapon, only to see a young man, his face obscured with dots of blue paint around his eyes and a loin cloth as his only clothing coming towards her.   
  
Not sure whether to judge the man friend or foe, Leia pulled the spear from the junjat and held it in a throwing posture, attempting to stand in the process.   
  
The young man's hands went out toward her, moving down in lights drops as though pressing on the air. "Kao, na kao," he said in a seemingly calm voice.   
  
Leia felt Han faintly squeeze her palm and she dropped the spear, looking back at him as her appeared to be fading. Her eyes darted back and forth, seeking something to remedy the problem though she knew not what she needed.   
  
The young man came alongside her and Leia recalled his presence, having forgotten he even existed as she watched Han's irises slowly become wider, his chest moving with less frequent breaths.   
  
  
  
"Cookua hé, fer ta gunaté," the native called, though to whom Leia neither new no cared to discern. With the end of his words, however, the forest clearing's population grew, with more natives of the young man's kind joining him alongside Han, each talking amongst themselves in their strange tongue.  
  
As an older, wiser looking man came to kneel beside Han's near-limp body, he lowered his head. "Tuek deq juel," the man whispered, looking into Han's eyes, "Yi dyoja vetre zué kio set."  
  
The group lifted Han off the ground despite Leia's weak protests, lifting him carefully onto their shoulders and walking off into the dense forest. She was unable to stop them, held back by the young man who'd thrown the spear. She wished with all of herself that she could speak their language, only to know what meaning lay behind the solemn words which the old man had spoken over Han.  
  
The spear-thrower took her chin and pulled her face to look at him as she again pulled against his grip. "Deq suet zuéj," he said, letting go of her arm and taking her hand in a comforting gesture.  
  
As he guided Leia behind his companions, she contemplated the meaning of the words which he'd spoken. No amount of though could make her understand them fully, but her fear quelled itself within her at the sound of the strange tones.   
  
They may not have given her clarity, but at the moment, they gave her hope. 


	16. For Now, We Wait

The first thing to register in Han's mind was a faint chirping sound which seemed to punctuate an otherwise silent, dark world as he became slowly aware of his chest's soft rise and fall. It was the warble of an animal he'd never heard before, being joined by the quiet brushing of wind on a tree branch, and the light crackle of a fire as Han's auditory sense recalled it's function and transmitted more and more information to his brain.   
  
His smell and taste came in tandem as he took in the aroma of a mild incense, a flavor of fruit saturating it's presence, reminding Han of dulla berries and the way they looked when Jacen smeared them across his face as a child. The odor of raw alcohol entered his nose with a bite, forcing a twitch in his nostrils and a clouded memory of a bar fight and a hospital bed. He couldn't make out the time and date of either event, but he made an educated guess at which one had come first.   
  
He opened his eyes next, finding them willing to cooperate for the time being and deciding it to be a wise decision to employ them. At first all he saw were blurs of an off-white and tan mixture, striated with lines of dark brown at high frequency, but as his eyes adjusted, he found himself facing the underside of a thatch-type roof which sported a small opening in the center, out of which escaped some moderate smoke from the fire he'd smelt earlier. Through the opening he could see a balmy blue sky and the edges of tree branches poking in from the sides.  
  
The last sensation to fill in was his sense of touch, and he was made immediately aware of what a bad idea it had been to reinstate the feeling. He grit his teeth as his shoulder and torso informed him quite vividly of their rather impaled state, aching and throbbing so as to more eloquently communicate their point. He felt as though he'd just been given a deep tissue massage by a rancor.   
  
Luckily he didn't have to search through endless mental pathways to remember exactly what had afflicted him in this manner, his memory was quite clear on the whole series of events, though it didn't make it any easier on him. It would have been much simpler for him right then if he hadn't recalled the incident at all, because now the bit right before he passed out was replaying in his head.   
  
It wasn't like it was the first time he'd almost told her. It wasn't the first by far. He'd thought about it so many times that it was almost second nature to have the idea wandering around in his head. It had become one of those comforting images in your mind that have never actually happened, and despite the fact that you could never bring yourself to truly act them out, it was consoling to have them stored for future use somewhere in your psyche.   
  
He'd never gotten that close, though, never to the point where he had *seen* himself say it, seen himself in her eyes, about to whisper those few simple words. He'd almost done it too, almost blew years of worthless regrets right out into hyperspace, almost risked everything. Or rather, risked nothing.   
  
  
  
As far as he'd known, he was going to die, he could have gone to that eternal summer, the proverbial happy town which all the fanatics he'd never believed always rambled on about. He hadn't had anything to loose right then, nothing holding him back, total freedom in those few seconds before what he'd though was certain fatality. Oh how he wanted those moments back, that liberty just for a few more seconds, long enough to follow through on that plan, that little idea which wanted so badly to realize itself.   
  
What forced him away from the acting of this desire? What foolish little shackles bound his feet to this ridiculous path of so called maturity? Pride, regret, guilt, fear, pain, you name it and Han Solo had let it take over his life, ruling his every action for more than a decade now. His name was listed under idiot, coward, and arrogant in the encyclopedia of his intellect. Reality stings with truth and one that has taken so long to hit you tends to stab through you like a knife through the heart.   
  
He wasn't the only one to blame, he knew, it took two of them to screw this whole thing up. In the beginning, it was him, but in the end it had been her that delivered the final punch to their relationship. Round three, Leia wins by knockout.   
  
At the start of it all he was the problem, unwilling to let go of what was already gone, as if he could hurt the dead. But when he went to her apartment that day, the day when she would drive a thousand stakes through his heart, he had allowed himself to feel what they had between them, he let himself love her.   
  
This was where the idiot bit came in. He'd been scammed, he'd made a real fool of himself. Sure, he loved her, but letting himself know it was the biggest mistake he could have made. When Bria died it had hurt him so badly that it felt as though his body had no room left to feel, he'd never wanted to go through that again. He'd invested so much in his wife, losing it all with her last breath, he didn't think he had anything left to give, or any willingness to do so. But he did it again, after holding back for ages, on that one night he'd done it again, only to have his heart ripped out and handed back to him after.   
  
If Bria's death had filled each of his nerves with anguish, than Leia's betrayal had created entirely new ones only to desecrate and transgress against them. He'd offered her all he had to give, and she'd just tossed him aside, discarded him without a thought to console a rejected heart. She hadn't even cared one iota whether or not he even existed at that moment. He meant nothing to her.   
  
What didn't make sense to him was the look on her face, that look of shear terror in her eyes that he'd seen before drifting into unconsciousness. After everything he'd convinced himself of, after all the conclusions he'd come to, how the hell could she have had that kind of fear for him? She had looked at him with the same dread of loss that he new too well and it didn't add up. He was one slap short of sobriety and he wasn't sure he wanted to reach it anyway.   
  
Han lifted himself off his shoulders, supporting his weight on his good arm as he felt the signs of immobility in his abdominal region and the worthlessness of his other shoulder. He was positive that the junjat was an animal he could eat with a clear conscience.   
  
  
  
As he rested his back against the wall behind him, he found himself facing Leia's sleeping form, which lay curled in a chair a few feet from his cot. She was wrapped in a woven blanket and resting in what appeared to be a rather uncomfortable position, with her head tilted to one side and propped up on her hand. By the looks of it, she'd been there all night.   
  
Han smiled slightly at the thought, only to be interrupted as Leia's eyes fluttered open and she yawned, stretching her limbs a little before sitting upright.   
  
"Good morning," Han said, his voice soft without his intention.   
  
"Are you...?" she seemed to search for an appropriate term, as though "okay" really wasn't what she was meaning to ask.  
  
"In one piece?" Han finished for her. "Yah, save for a few missing chunks I think I'm all here."   
  
"Good." She looked down at her feet as they both went silent.   
  
It was almost funny. They were in the same position they'd been in for eight years, the prostrate silence they'd built so well, only now they were there for different reasons. The rigid quiet was now present not because of the threat of argument, but because of the threat of a strange kind of peace.   
  
"Before..." Han found himself speaking without even thinking, "... back there when we were alone I– "   
  
Leia cut him off. "You were going to say something. I know." She didn't look at him, just kept staring at her hands which were clasped in front of her. Before Han could say anything more, she seemed to put on an entirely new face, adopting a calm and collected manner. "The Hodans are going to help us."  
  
That was as plain in meaning as a slap in the face. Han felt crushed for a brief moment. He'd thought that perhaps it was all over, that maybe they were both to the point where they could talk, or would talk. But no, they were back at square on as far as Leia was concerned, she didn't want to discuss it.   
  
He fell into play with her thread of conversation, "You mean the guys in loin clothes? How exactly?"  
  
"Give them a little more credit than that, they saved your life, and they're not as primitive as they seem." Leia sat back in her chair. "They've offered to let us stay until you get better, but they've got bacta here so it shouldn't take to long."  
  
"We have to get to that hanger, otherwise we're sitting ducks," Han protested. Lying around and waiting for their captors to come around wasn't his idea of a good plan.   
  
  
  
"There's nothing there that we could use, they're all short range craft. Look," she handed his a datapad with some specs on the hanger, "The long range ship is in orbit."  
  
Han sighed, "So what are our options then?"  
  
"For now, we wait." 


	17. Back Where We Started

Chewbacca growled obscenities at the comm grid once again. This had to have been the thousandth time he'd reversed the signal, tweeking the frequency only slightly in hopes that it would hit home and he'd reach Han. Of course, this was the /Falcon/, so not only was the search not working, but the comm grid had decided to make a fuss about it's repeated use and feign exhaustion.   
  
Chewie resisted the urge to pound the machine into mechanical mulch with his fist. He sat for a few moments, then switched his attention to other repairs. A short time later his instincts got the better of him and he turned back to the grid, pummeling the unit with both rather harry paws, howling in vexation.   
  
He was running out of Wookiee curses when Jacen trudged into the cockpit, rubbing his eyes and yawning.   
  
"What are you doing?" he asked in the middle of a yawn. The action contorted his words to such a degree that for a moment Chewie thought that the boy had just told him to "sing at foreigners" in Shyriiwook. It threw him for a moment until he deciphered what Jacen had actually meant.   
  
He moaned a reply. It was late in the morning and he'd been up all night with Lando, who was now in the galley, snoring off a glass of ale which had been the only thing keeping him running up until then. It went without saying that Chewie had a legal right to go completely bonkers based on the amount of sleep he'd acquired over the last few days.   
  
"I didn't think you were supposed to break the things you're repairing." Jacen drug himself inside the room and plopped down in the pilot seat. He looked like a miniature Han Solo, sprawled out and looking exhausted. Chewie had finally ordered the boy to bed after the sun rose over Coruscant's skyline, figuring that Han would have killed him for letting the kid go without sleep for so long. He could see that Jacen could still hardly keep his eyes open.  
  
Chewie barked a short response.   
  
"Well just cause Dad does it doesn't make it a good idea."   
  
They both laughed as Chewie noticed a red light blinking on the comm, it was registering the message Han sent. He swivelled his co-pilot chair around to block Jacen's view and placed his hands behind his head.   
  
"Do you think he's alright?" Jacen asked solemnly.   
  
Chewie looked out at the stars, trying to look like he was certain as he told Jacen that he Han could get out of anything. He felt right then that he was robbing Jacen of the security of knowing that his father was alive, but knew that if he were to tell the boy that the likelihood of keeping the news from Luke would lower to near vacuity.   
  
  
  
Chewie glanced behind him to find the indicator light had turned off and he pivoted his chair back around. As the chair spun past the comm unit Chewie winced minutely, hearing a small click from the back of the seat flicking on one of the switches. He turned back to the unit to late to turn it off, and the message came on loud and clear:  
  
"Chewie, it's Han, I can't talk right now but I'll send another message later, track the signal. Whatever you do, don't tell Luke."  
  
This time Chewie didn't hold back in his beatings of the infernal machine, and several pieces came flying off, littering the ground with shards of metal and transparisteel.   
  
"What was that?" Jacen asked, coming up alongside Chewie.   
  
The Wookie howled a lie at Jacen and pretended to look busy. He said that it was a really old message that the comm held onto because of a glitch.   
  
"No it's not, that's Dad, you got a message from Dad!" Jacen said, obviously not buying his story. "Why didn't you tell everyone?"  
  
Chewie tried to explain that he wasn't supposed to tell anyone because it would get back to Luke, but Jacen appeared unconvinced.   
  
"Why wouldn't Dad want Luke to know about this?"   
  
"Know about what?" Lando asked as he came into the cockpit, joining the discussion to Chewie's dismay.   
  
The Wookie put his paws on his head and growled. This was not going well.   
  
"Chewie has a message from Dad." Jacen said, leaning over Chewie and pushing the button to cue the communication.   
  
It played over again and Lando glared at Chewie, "You got something like this and you didn't tell us."  
  
Chewie rewound the message a few seconds and replayed the end. "Don't tell Luke," Han's voice said over the speakers.   
  
"Okay, so we don't tell Luke, but she still could've trusted me and the kid," Lando replied.  
  
"So we're not going to tell anyone?" Jacen asked, a little surprised.   
  
Chewie growled an unmistakable "No."  
  
"Did you track the signal? Where are they?" Lando quizzed as he started examining the comm unit himself.   
  
  
  
Chewie howled a response.  
  
"So we've got nothing?" Lando asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
"Wonderful. We're back where we started."  
  
- - - 


	18. I'm Not Complaining

Leia inhaled deeply, taking in the smell of her surroundings. The village had smelt like herb trees and incense ever since their arrival and it seemed to permeate even the aromas of nature as she walked along the paths beside the little creek. It was so peaceful here that she could hardly remember why she was supposed to be in such a rush to leave.  
  
The Hodan's were quiet, for the most of what she'd seen, and seemed to value a sense of serenity most of all. That was one of the reasons the her hunter-friend Chanko said that his people didn't like the group who'd kidnapped her and Han. They "fought against the harmony" he'd translated roughly.  
  
The boy was no older than seventeen maybe, and had inherited a knowledge of Basic from his grandfather, who'd learned the tongue from anthropologists of the Old Republic when they'd studied the Hodans years ago.  
  
It had been a relief to know that she would have some means of communicating with their hosts during their stay, but she also found listening to Chanko speak his native dialect to be fascinating. She hadn't yet picked up enough to carry on a conversation, but he had praised her on her mastery of the accent in so little time.   
  
Han was healing quickly, and despite the initial thought of that being good news, it reminded Leia that they'd have to go back to reality soon. It was strange that throughout the little venture, she'd actually found herself not so much enjoying the experience– particularly in the more life threatening situations – but rather preferring it to her normal life. Did she hate her existence so much as to favor her own kidnapping?   
  
Her eyes followed the path of the bank of the creek as she walked, and she saw not to far ahead of her a young boy no older than Anakin, rough housing with his brother in the water. She diverted her eyes, thinking of how much she wished Anakin would have that, how much she wished she hasn't robbed him of the opportunity.   
  
She wanted so much right then to live in this kind of a place, simple and kind. A home that didn't require so much of a person, that just let you live. It was funny how she'd changed from all those years ago. She would never have even dreamed of living in such a place when she was a child, aspiring to places of high office, trying to help so many people in just one lifetime. But what was all that worth to her now? Was her unhappiness worth it all? She wasn't sure that the answer would make her any more content.   
  
"Qué ond shet!" Leia heard a voice yell from behind her.   
  
She turned to see a girl running up to her, Chanok not far behind. The young woman was sixteen at the oldest, with honey brown hair and a tan-pale complexion supporting green eyes. Her features were exotic, but it struck Leia that they weren't so in what could be considered an extravagant manner, they were simply pretty and kind.   
  
Chanok overtook the girl in stride and they came up to Leia side by side.   
  
  
  
Leia's hunter-friend took her hand between his, palm to palm and spoke a greeting. She remembered the expression and took her free hand, placing it on his cheek and repeating the phrase he'd taught her.  
  
"This is Héna," he said, gesturing toward his companion. "She is my..." he searched for the Basic equivalent but appeared lost.  
  
Leia tried to remember the relational system which he'd briefly explained before. The two didn't look genetically related so she made a much relieving assumption that she wouldn't have to recall any of the complex kinship terms he'd mentioned.   
  
"Your wife?" she guessed. It was an unrelated and generic label which she wasn't sure would mean anything to him, but she could see he was a little embarrassed at being at a loss for words.   
  
"Is close," he replied. "She wanted to prepare you for the festival tonight."  
  
Héna smiled at Leia. "We wish you rest and to rejuvenate."  
  
Leia wasn't so sure what that meant in the long run, but as long as the whole thing involved a bath, she was generally up for it. Besides, the rest and rejuvenation bit sounded rather appealing.   
  
- - -  
  
It was a few hours later that Leia emerged from Héna's hutt and the moons were rising up over the trees, adding to the illumination of the fires that were lit around the village. She could hear music echoing all around and a joyful spirit going with it. She felt a little silly in her outfit, but nonetheless in a good mood.   
  
Héna had explained the importance of the rituals as she and three other girls attended to Leia. It annoyed her that they wouldn't let her do everything on her own. She had to deal with servants and the like on Hapes, and she didn't want to have to do so on this occasion, which was the closest thing she'd had to a vacation in years. However, the girls had been very explicit as to why they must clean her and dress her themselves.   
  
The Hodans, apparently, value hospitality above almost all else, and find it to be an insult to the gods if they don't care for guests with the same kindness they would for a deity. Leia wasn't all to thrilled about the deity comparison, it wouldn't be the first time someone had made *that* analogy and it had never ended up well.   
  
What was refreshing about all of the trouble they went to, was that after everything was said and done, they really hadn't done much. They put no paint on her face, no make-up, even the dress she wore was of simple tanned animal hide sewn together. She felt more restored and presentable than she ever had when in Hapan costumes and courtly gowns.   
  
Judging by the look on Han's face as she approached him, he tended to agree.  
  
  
  
"You look... wow, you look great." He sat next to a fire, propped up against pillows and a tree stump with a plate of fruit by his side. He had to consciously close his mouth and the action almost forced a giggle out of her.   
  
"You look... better than you did," she replied, taking a seat next to him. It was the truth, he'd regained some of his coloring, and with any luck, he might have regained some of his blood.   
  
"We've got ourselves a nice little tribe of doctors, if you ask me," he glanced over at her again, "and they ain't bad beauticians either."  
  
Leia cracked a reluctant smile. "Apparently they would have considered it an insult if I didn't let them clean me up, so I did it out of courtesy."  
  
"I'm not complaining." He took a bite out of some fruit and they both remained quiet as he chewed it.   
  
Leia wondered how long this nice conversation would last as she watched the festivities. It wasn't even awkward, which, in itself, threw her for a loop. She couldn't let it go back to the way it had been, but if they kept going down the path they were traveling, he might venture again into the territory which she desperately wanted to shy away from. He almost brought it up that first day in the village, she could only hope he wouldn't do it again. She couldn't guarantee her ability to hold back so many truths that wanted to be told.   
  
"We can't stay here much longer." She said, changing the subject quickly.   
  
"I know," Han replied, his tone solemn. He seemed to have grown attached to the place as Leia had. "We're not going to do these people any good."  
  
"Chanko told me of an outpost a few kilometers from here that has a comm unit you could modify. It transmits regularly so you could send it out as static and it won't cause any alarm."  
  
"So tomorrow then?" he asked.  
  
"If you're up for it."  
  
"I'm as ready as I'll ever be..." 


	19. All The Things He'd Let Go

The morning had come all too swiftly as far as Han was concerned, not allowing him time enough to rest himself or to resolve the conflicts in his mind which seemed to rage without end. All he had left in the quiet of the village was a few more minutes, and it wasn't nearly enough. He didn't want to finish this little venture, not really. Sure he wanted to see his friends and son, but the truth was, he didn't want to go back to being what he was.   
  
It had been inching it's way into his head for a while now, the thoughts of what a ridiculous little man he'd shown himself to be over the last ten years, and how much he hated himself for it. The Han Solo who craved action had faded with the last battles of the civil war, and replaced himself with a pathetic, weak old man, teetering on the precipice of complete sanity.   
  
He'd never wanted that, he'd never wanted to wither away, to accept the fate that a so-called destiny might hand him. The captain of the /Millennium Falcon/ made his own luck. But the Admiral of the New Republic fleet sat in an office the size of a freighter and gave out scanning orders. There was a huge, gaping line between the two, and Han had crossed it without even knowing. This was an existence he hadn't signed on for.   
  
He couldn't believe how far he'd let himself go because of one event so long ago. One feeling. One little touch. One woman. He made himself suffer for all the stupidity of it, unwilling to admit that his pride was the most ludicrous of all his stumblings. Well, if there was one thing that had smacked him in the face with it's clarity after the whole debacle on Hodan, it was his the presence of his own arrogance. This was something he wouldn't allow to strangle him any longer.   
  
He looked down at the pile of clothes on the table next to him, leaning forward on his seat and taking the garments in hand. His dress uniform. He hated it. It had no purpose other than to make him look like a regal idiot on special occasions which he never liked to celebrate anyway. His medals still gleamed from the torn fabric of the shirt, shouting their praises of Bravery, Honor, Valor, Courage... all the things he'd let go. Where was the little button that read "Han Solo: Broken, Weak, and Decaying?" There was a medal with a little more truth.  
  
He tossed the uniform into the fire which burned in the center of the room. The first order of business upon his arrival at home: resignation. It was a start. Maybe then he could spend a little more time on things that mattered, maybe something he even things he enjoyed. Hell, he'd haul cargo for the rest of his life as long as it meant that he, Jacen, and Chewie could have a run in with pirates every once in a while. An adventure would do the kid some good, and it wouldn't be bad for the rest of them either.  
  
An exhale escaped his lungs as his chest seemed to become lighter and burdens of the past evaporated from their place of dominance over his heart. There was more that remained, but he knew all to well how to break it's hold. The question was whether or not he would allow himself to take the necessary action.   
  
  
  
But to offer up one's heart, even if just the broken pieces, and have it refused... Humiliating was a word that came to mind but for Han it was somehow amazingly understated. A picture of several large rancors pounding him into the ground seemed more accurate.   
  
He had thought about what they're life would be like, with Jacen, another boy and a girl, sleeping under the Sunsets of some exotic world when they were out camping on the beach. Han, of course, would be complaining about the sand as Leia looked on, laughing and watching as the kids snuck up behind him and drug him into the surf. They could have had those good times. He could have been a good father, a good husband. It all seemed lost to him now.   
  
That was what he'd offered Leia, little bits of happiness in a harsh and unforgiving galaxy. He'd offered it to her every time he looked into her eyes, but it wasn't enough. When she refused it was a blow to his head he hadn't imagined possible. He'd wanted to argue, but Isolder offered a life of luxury and power, he merely offered one of butterfly kisses in the moonlight and the promise of that funny little feeling in his heart.   
  
There was a time in his life when Han Solo could call him self a bachelor, a man whose affections were held by no single woman in the whole of the galaxy, a man who played the universe for all it had and harbored no plans of settling down. Those were the good old days when he could count himself as simple minded, all he needed was a reason to fly and a round of drinks every once in a while. Ignorance is bliss, he'd been told, and boy had it been true. He hadn't let himself know what love meant, the meaning of emotions he'd just locked away for the sake of a good time. He missed ignorance like a man in the desert misses the sight of something living.   
  
If he'd known that knowledge brought this kind of pain he'd never have accepted it. But then again, he had the memory of every little touch locked up inside his head. Every kiss, every caress of her hand, every moment of that single night they had, it was all alive and well inside his mind. As much as he hated himself for what he'd become, as much as he hated how he felt, he didn't want to forget those things. Every time he saw ringlets of her hair drop into her face, it was worth the stabbing his heart went through to see her so distant.   
  
As he remembered the glint in her eyes as she stared back into his soul, accepting fate didn't seem so easy. He didn't want to die with the light in those eyes turned grey, to leave her to fade away. It wasn't worth the pride and emotional vanity to rob the universe of something he treasured so.   
  
He'd hated the memories of her for so long that it was hard to pull them from the pool of malice he'd steeped them into. The tiny measure of pride kicked him in the proverbial ass for it as well as he finally realized what he was costing himself. What he'd done too himself was ridiculous, but the part he'd played in what they'd done to each other was pure lunacy.   
  
As he watched his Republic insignias and regalia burn and melt into oblivion, he finally admitted to himself that it hadn't been all her fault. All that time he'd hated her out of not wanting to accept his own failings. He'd started the problem with his fear and distance along time ago, and he hadn't let up since.   
  
  
  
~Gods, what an idiot.~  
  
"Han?" He heard Leia's voice as if it were echoing in some canyon on Tatooine as she entered the room, pulling him from his thoughts.  
  
Han removed his gave from the fire in front of his and looked up at her.   
  
Leia made a quick glance at the fire and it's contents before continuing, "Are you ready to go?"  
  
Han nodded, grabbing the pack that sat on the floor next to his feet and pulling it over his shoulders. "Let's get this show on the road." 


	20. Dad Said Not To

Chewie set his hand of cards face down on the table, leaning back casually and placing his hands behind head, giving a cocky yawn as he did so. Sabaac hadn't always come easy to him, and many a quarrel had come about because of that fact, not to mention many a broken limb. But tonight he'd gotten the upper hand, gathering a few extra credits and a date with a "reputable" Zeltron Lando is acquainted with, should the old cheater come through on his word.   
  
He scanned his opponents informally, appearing to keep an eye on the quirks which either of them might present. But that was all for show. The Wookiee quickly made eye contact with Jacen and the boy winked, signaling him that it was safe to call for a few more credits onto pot.   
  
Lando glanced over his shoulder, but Jacen looked back down at his data pad and attempted to look busy. "What're you doin'?" Lando asked, apparently finding Jacen's silence to be not only out of the ordinary but also suspicious.  
  
Chewie growled to call Lando's attention back to the game. Besides, Jacen was supposed to be working on his language homework anyway. Not that any of it would get done until an hour or so before it's due. He still found it necessary to keep the kid busy and his mind of the situation they were all in.  
  
That, of course, had been the original purpose for the game night they were all having. Though it was hardly going as such. Every few minutes Jacen, Chewie or Lando would glance at the comm indicator to see if there was a message, something that Chewie was sure had caught their observant Jedi Master's attention.   
  
It hadn't been his idea to invite Luke, not that he didn't want him there, but he had never been very good at keeping secrets, and staring down a Jedi all night wasn't going to help. Despite the fact that he'd been the only one a little worried about the idea in the beginning, his two partners in crime were the one's causing the most suspicion.   
  
He was surprised that Luke hadn't mentioned anything, with the looks Lando and Jacen were giving the comm and each other, Chewie could have spotted it if he were drunken blind man with bad hearing.   
  
Luke was apparently a little distracted. He hadn't won a single game, and he kept staring off into space whenever his attention drifted. Chewie'd never seen him like that, or at least not for years and years, back when he and Han first bet the kid and his crazy cooke of a Master.   
  
"This game is going to hell, how about we call it a night and go home," Lando offered with a bit of a sigh. He was losing, so his suggestion wasn't something to be taken seriously.  
  
Chewie growled a definitive "No" and called for a show of cards.  
  
Lando gave an irritated grunt and laid his cards out as Chewie did the same. Luke followed suit nonchalantly, looking bored and tired. Chewie won the round without question. The Wookie put on a smug look and pulled the pile of credits towards his side of the table.   
  
  
  
He flipped a credit Jacen's way, but Anakin caught it mid air. Jacen glared at the younger boy, who then reluctantly handed it over, sitting back down on the bunk nearby.   
  
Chewie shoveled the cash into a pouch and put it in a place of safe keeping before returning to the table and setting up to deal another round. He glanced at the comm indicator for the millionth time as he dealt the cards, then grunted at Luke to ask him what was on his mind.  
  
"I don't know... I can't sense her, I can't feel either of them," Luke replied, lifting up his cards to take a look at what he'd got, then laying them back down, exhausted and uncaring. "I just feels like we're not going to find them."  
  
Chewie looked at Lando, and the Lando looked down at the table. When he turned his eyes to Jacen, the boy was feigning concentration on his datapad. He finally growled the only reassurance he could and returned to looking at his cards.  
  
He lumped a few credits into the pot and set in for the long haul on another profitable, yet incredibly boring game of Sabaac. He found it hard to believe, but he might have actually enjoyed it better if he was losing, as long as the room wouldn't stay so uncomfortably quiet. The /Falcon/ had never been this quiet as far as he'd known her, and it was an uncannily annoying sensation for it to be so now.   
  
With a quick glance to the comm light once again, he tossed a card into the radomizer. Then it registered in his head that the light had been blinking and he turned back to look at it. Sure enough, the little red light was flashing it's beady signal across the room. It was then that Chewie noticed the vexing little beeping noise that accompanied the light, but he pretended to ignore it for a minute while he decided on a course of action.   
  
He gave a look to Lando who appeared to have noticed the light as well. "Could you get me a drink, Chewie, my throat's a little dry," Lando said, pulling at his collar as he gave Chewie a reason to leave the game.   
  
Chewie howled a yes and got up from his chair, nodding at Jacen, who then noticed the light, and offered to come with his, saying that he wanted to get a candy bar from the storage room as well. The two then walked quietly towards the cockpit.   
  
Jacen stood in the doorway and kept his eyes aimed toward the hallway leading into the galley, allowing Chewie to take the copilot's chair and cue up the message on the comm. He made sure to play it on a single speaker, and he turned the volume low as the message loaded into the comm's immediate memory.   
  
Chewie set the tracking device on to trace the signals original and found with great relief that there was still a trail to follow in order to locate it. The trace would take a while, so with a thumbs up from Jacen, he flipped the switch and the message came on:  
  
  
  
"Chewie, it's Han. Leia and I are on Hodan III, in the mid western hemisphere, about 5 kilometers out from a fort-like installation. We're staying with some natives but the guys behind all this aren't going to go away. We need you to get here, fast. In about 26 standard hours, we're going to be at latitude 25 degrees North, longitude 15 degrees West. Remember: don't tell Luke."  
  
"Don't tell me what?"Luke asked as he stood in the doorway to the cockpit. "Was that Han's voice?"  
  
Chewie turned around and glared at Jacen, who then turned around to look at Luke. The boy hadn't been watching very well, apparently.  
  
Chewie growled an unconvincing "no" as Lando meandered into the group, followed by Anakin.   
  
"Play that again," Luke replied, sure that what he'd heard had been the tone of his old friend.   
  
Chewie protested that it was nothing, but Luke leaned over the Wookie and pushed the comm command to call for the message to play again.   
  
The message played much louder the second time, and Luke glowered at his companions upon hearing that his suspicions were all to accurate. When Han's last comment hit his ears he was puzzled, and a little hurt though he knew that the two captives would have god reason to hold back the information.   
  
"Why didn't you tell me?" his eyes drifted from Chewie, to Lando, to Jacen, and then to Anakin, who appeared as puzzled as he. It gave him a little comfort to think he hadn't been the only one left in the dark.   
  
"Dad said not to," Jacen replied.  
  
"And you chose now to start listening to him?"   
  
The room went a little silent. This occurrence was followed by another long silence, which lead into a quiet pause, permeated by a dinging noise as the bell on the oven in the galley rung out it's news that Lando's nightly snack was warm.   
  
"I'm going after them," Luke said, waking everyone from their mental meanderings.  
  
Chewie gave up on his immediate idea to hit himself in the head again, and turned around in his chair to start of the /Falcon/'s engines. He growled at Luke, telling the him that they were going to follow Han's instructions, and he was to stay put.   
  
"I'm coming," Lando said, slipping into the pilot's seat and aiding Chewie with starting the ship up. He turned back to Luke, "Take the boys and go home, Chewie and I'll have them back by tomorrow morning."  
  
  
  
"No, I'm not staying here, I've been sitting around with you four for days on end and I'm not going to sit this out."  
  
Chewie growled at him to leave, though in no way thinking that he'd listen.  
  
"I'll get my X-Wing and meet you in orbit in a hour," Luke replied, ignoring Chewie's protest and heading out the door.  
  
Jacen and Anakin looked at each other, than at the adults. "We want to come." The elder stated.   
  
Luke turned back at his students as Chewie and Lando looked over their shoulders, all saying a quick and finale, "No." 


	21. Silly Little Things

The whole village was lit with firelight as Leia leaned against a tall birsha tree, closing her eyes for a minute to lay some thoughts to rest. All she wanted was a little peace for the moment, with the calming smell of the sweet-bark burning in the fires and the solace and simplicity of nothing happening.   
  
This was their last night on Hodan, the last night before going home to a world constantly teeming with decisions, and technology, and power without a thought to true life. Or at least that was what it had become for Leia. No matter where she went: Hapes, Coruscant, or even with her memories to Alderaan; she was stuck in civilization. With comms ringing, initiatives to draft, people to serve, events to dress up for, and none of it meaning anything.   
  
It all went back to one thing, the whole existence she'd built, the whole of everything she had: this silly little thing called love. Avoiding it, walking away from it, scorning it, and refuting its existence, it all lead down the path towards where she stood: on a pillar of loneliness looking out on the universe.   
  
She had cut herself off from the rest of reality, from everything that had reminded her, every little remembrance. Her brother, her son, her own face, they all plagued her with inklings of the feeling which she had possessed one time, but could no longer allow herself to have.  
  
~This silly little thing called love.~ Ten years and she was back where she'd always been. No manner of doubt, or logic or mental strength could deny the energy in her heart which wished itself free from suppression.   
  
Running hadn't done her any good. She'd hidden behind the Senate, behind duty and responsibly, she'd never stood on her own two feet to face it. The little Princess without a planet, no place to hold her ground and nowhere to be saved. What an idiot to think that feigning strength could make it true.   
  
She had ripped apart her own happiness, torn it too shreds and let it rot. Her suicide of the soul had carried a heavy sentence, the rest of her life behind decorated prison cells in lavish palaces, locked behind paperwork and suffocated by solitude.   
  
He was the only other option, the only thing holding her back, but Han Solo didn't want her. His attraction to her was some rogue affection he hadn't let go, nothing more. As she'd lain on her bed, her arms wrapped around his chest and her eyes staring off into the distance, it had all come together.   
  
When the time had come and her choice had been made, she'd held it in, harnessing the aching just to reach out to him, to ask him to save her. He could have said anything, offered her some kind of reassurance that there was something in him that loved her as much as she wouldn't admit. But when it came down to it, she didn't even want to hear him say a word, she wouldn't believe it.   
  
She'd been so stupid. It wasn't till after it was over that she'd realized she was bound to him forever, whether he knew it or not, she had something of his he didn't know was missing. She had been too much of a coward to tell him.   
  
Leia exhaled and opened her eyes. They met with the warm, dim light of the fires hugging the walls of the huts and the bodies of the trees around her. There were some mistakes worth fixing, if nothing else, there we some things that had to change. Even if it had taken her this long to push past the pride and guilt and regret, there were some truths that deserved to be told.   
  
"It's kinda pretty, isn't it?" Leia heard Han's voice come from a little behind her.   
  
"Very," she said, maintaining her gaze. Somehow she had expected him, even wanted him to be there. It felt right in this different atmosphere.   
  
"I think I might actually miss this place when we're gone," Han said, coming up beside her and sitting on a stray log near the fire.  
  
Leia smiled though taken aback that his sentiments should so echo her own. "It's so peaceful," she found herself saying, "it's like being able to breathe again."  
  
Han looked down at the ground, becoming a little more serious in demeanor though he was still trying to make a joke of it. "I doubt you'll be singing the same tune when you get back with old iron skull in your little palace."  
  
She laughed slightly, not taking offense though she thought she should've. "Being buried under datapads in my office is more like it. But I don't sing… Besides, I haven't seen Isolder in months, save for a few communiqués, I doubt it'll be any different now." It was strange how honesty came so easily after years of lying. She felt as if she might be breaking some kind of law and yet it felt so freeing.   
  
Han was quiet for a moment, seeming to make an attempt at taking in the information presented, though he appeared to have no idea what to do with it. "That's gotta be rough on a marriage," he said, trying not to seem uncomfortable on the topic.   
  
"It's been that way for years… you get used to it." Leia said soberly. "We haven't slept in the same *wing* of the palace in five years…"  
  
Han showed his discomfort with this topic without restraint, but Leia could tell he was falling into the rhythm of the conversation; the cadence of candor wasn't hard to identify. "No offense, but that was never my favorite topic… you and him and…"  
  
Leia shook her head in amusement, "There isn't anything to talk about."  
  
Han lifted an eyebrow as he looked up at her, "Don't act all innocent, Princess, with that kid running around it's not so easy to pretend. You expect me to believe that you never," Han made an attempt at gesturing the word before giving up, "you know what I mean."  
  
Leia could feel her face's expression change without her command, putting on a countenance of resolve though hinting of a lingering fear. "I couldn't ever… he understood after awhile, but we never… were together."   
  
The words were slow in the coming, but the look on Han's face had shown their purpose to be attained. He adjusted his posture and remained quiet for a long while, letting only the sound of his breath be a response.   
  
"He's not Isolder's," Han mumbled, appearing to be holding back an aggression Leia wasn't sure she understood. "So who was it?" he questioned, nearly gritting his teeth.   
  
Leia closed her eyes for a moment and inhaled. It registered in her mind that Han was only angry because he thought that she'd taken another lover, but though the fact confused her, it was of little consequence at the time. "You remember that night…"  
  
"How could I forget?" Han asked, drifting off at the end as though he'd already come to a conclusion and was simply waiting for her to confirm.   
  
She kneeled down next to him as his eyes found hers, "I took something with me when I left…" her words trailed off as she looked for the right phrase to end it.   
  
"Anakin," Han finished for her. He stood up, looking away in a manner that made Leia dread the moment he would turn back to face her. She didn't need his anger right now.   
  
"Before you say anything…just let me talk," Han began again, turning back to face her, showing an expression of calm she hadn't expected, "I'm not angry. I can't do it. Believe me, hun, when I say I want with all the galaxy to hate you right now, but it's not working. All I can come up with his that I'm glad that after all these years I can think of one good thing that came out of this whole mess. If that kid's all that's left…" he sighed, walking up to her and smiling, "Ten years and we're exactly where we were before."  
  
"I don't want another ten years of this," Leia said as she and Han both sunk into a sitting position on the log next to them.   
  
"Well then at least we can agree on something." 


	22. Again

He was a father—again. It really hadn't hit him until hours after Leia told him, hours after he'd resigned himself to bed before their departure the next morning, and hours after he'd lapsed into a bout of insomnia. He had another kid, there were pieces of himself in an entirely different person he'd hardly ever spoken to. One more person to start over with.   
  
He wanted to be enraged, to hate Leia for robbing him of his own son, but he wasn't angry even in the slightest. He knew that it wouldn't have made a difference if Leia had told him or not, he would have been the same father he'd been to Jacen, and he wouldn't wish that on anyone. All he could do is thank the Force that he'd have a second chance with them both, to begin again with some clarity on the things he hadn't allowed himself to know.  
  
It wasn't as if he'd been some terrible father, the problem was he hadn't been *anything*. If he'd beaten and neglected his son it would have been one thing, but hovering in the distance, never being there, never really knowing his son, it seemed somehow worse. At least if he'd been abusive, Jacen would have known how to respond, but as it was, the boy seemed to love him despite an apparent confusion as to how he was supposed to react to his so-called father.   
  
He was wrestling with his feelings—again. Apparently the one thing that *can* travel backward in time is one's emotional state, for Han was once again locked in that sensation of being mentally ill, a decade had past and there was no change. Sure, he'd masked it, buried it, burned it, dressed it up, and given it an honorary salute as he tried to shove it over board, but the damn emotion just kept coming back. He'd once compared it to a mynock: it's ugly, it's icky (for lack of a better term), and it sucks the life out of you. Of course, although the accuracy of that statement wasn't important, the imagery seemed to fit.   
  
It would have been nice if Leia had been physically deformed, ugly on the inside and out. She should have been stuck up and really annoying, with half her face sinking on one side and one of her eyes missing. If she were hideous than at least Han wouldn't have been physically attracted to her, he'd have been able to keep the illusions of her up and running. But no, she had to be just as beautiful as she'd ever been, dripping in grace from head to toe with her damned porcelain skin and piercing eyes.   
  
Now he couldn't even dislike her. His rage toward the memories seemed to just melt and dispose of itself in an orderly fashion, piece by piece, all in good time. They could talk without wanting to strangle one another, even carry on a conversation that didn't end in yet another awkward silence which hinted of a deep seeded abhorrence in both persons just waiting for a moment to be unleashed. Love's favorite bedfellow had always been hatred, they'd proved that true if nothing else.  
  
The only thing that really got to Han was that he'd wasted ten years of his life, and ten years of everyone else's time. Ten years and nothing but mistakes to show for it. He'd been a bad father, a bad friend, he'd never let his wife rest in peace, never allowed himself to move on. He'd wasted all that time on nothing but pride and regret, cutting himself off from everything he could have had simply because it would cost him what little emotional dignity he thought he had left. All hail Han Solo and his wonderfully ironic surname.   
  
Starting over was all he had left. A clean canvas, a blank slate and a fresh start, he had a chance to go back to the beginning and renew his lease on life. He'd be damned if he'd let himself refuse. There was some happiness left for him with his family, the fuzzball, the gambler, the boys, and perhaps one other… there was a lot of fun left to be had, and they all deserved more than just their share.   
  
He was at a cross roads—again, only this time he had some insight on where each road may lead. He could crumble into oblivion, he could remain stagnate and accept some putrid existence in a galaxy where all he could do was remain shadowed by the myth of his own heroics, only to disperse all such imaginings as he withered into the void. Or there was that other path, not paved or lined with markings to point towards a predestined fate, a road where there would be many more such choices, but many more opportunities.   
  
Staring down each path, knowing with some lucidity which destination each boasted at its end, there wasn't much of a struggle. To hate ones self was the making of a loathsome existence, one that Han would not allow himself to buy into any longer, one that he didn't want anymore.   
  
"You look tired," Leia said, interrupting Han's musings as they walked along the wooded trail toward the clearing where they were to meet with Chewie. She was walking beside him with her pack slung on one shoulder and a staff in the opposite hand moving in tandem with her stride.   
  
Han laughed lightly. "Kidnapping will do that to a person… though I have to admit, I think it was the being attacked by wild beasts bit that really got me."  
  
"How is your shoulder?" she asked, seeming to just then remember his encounter with the native fauna.   
  
He adjusted the joint a bit to clarify that it was doing fine before answering. "It's a little sore. I haven't been paying much attention to it, to tell the truth, there's kind of been a lot of other things to think about."  
  
Leia remained silent for a few moments upon hearing this, though for what purpose Han was unsure. When she began again it was with a calm manner and a deep breath. "So what's next?"  
  
Han thought carefully before answering. He knew all too well what she meant, but it wasn't always such an easy inquiry to satisfy. He didn't know what she expected of him, what they were going to do about Anakin, or whether not he should divulge some of the more risky revelations of his heart for fear they might meet with another round of rejection.   
  
"I don't know," he began, "Leia, I--"   
  
At that moment, the sound of a mechanical click as a blaster rifle was loaded just in time to feel the barrel of the rifle come to rest on his shoulder, its handler bringing the end to meet his neck.   
  
Han raised his hands so that they were level with his head as what numbered perhaps a dozen men stepped out of the bushes ahead and behind him, all armed and aiming at him and his companion.   
  
They closed in as Han glanced over at Leia to find that she had a similar weapon trained on her head, and a guard's arm wrapped around her neck, though she wasn't struggling. He made an attempt to pull further away from the man behind him, but the guard grabbed his arm and pressed the barrel of his gun further into the nape of Han's neck.   
  
Han's eyes met Leia's as they were brought closer together in the clearing, the guards mumbling around them, seeming to organized themselves as their prisoners silently searched for a quick means of escape. Leia seemed to indicate something as she motioned with a slight jerk of her head and eyes in a movement that was downward and to the left. He followed her lead and saw that she still had the comm.-link locked onto her belt—near enough to her hand to make a world of difference.  
  
He was going to have some adventure—again, whether he lived through it or not. Time for Han Solo to throughout the crutch of pride, the hindrances of his own mistakes, because this time it was about life and death and dead living, and it was time to make a choice. But before death or life could claim him, there was some business he had to take care of. That first step down a new path, the ground shaky underneath as he finally voiced a little something that should have been said a long time ago.   
  
He smiled "I love you."  
  
Leia moved her hand over the comm.-link and look him in the eyes, "I know." 


	23. Here Goes Nothing

Chewbacca griped the helm firmly as they came out of hyperspace, keeping the /Falcon/ clean on course as she coasted into the Hodan system, her engines now quiet and calm, and her sensor wake covering the presence of the modified X-wing riding her tale, making her technically blind to its presence. However, Chewie had more than hunch about where the ugly little thing was, with its rather predictable Jedi Master keeping it locked in the /Falcon's/ left corner drain-void, where there wouldn't be any friction from the fuel exhaust to slow down the craft.   
  
This had not been Chewie's idea of a good plan. He may have followed one or more of Han's ridiculous ventures into a world of hurt, but in his mind that was completely different than attacking a large group of fanatics on a world about a billion light years from anything even *he* would call civilization. He had suggested getting the New Republic military involved, or at least the Hapans, despite the length of time it might take, but he'd been outnumbered by a short, toe-headed Jedi Master. Not one of his better hours, no doubt.  
  
So here they were: engines off and running dead, gambling on some degree of surprise, on a three man rescue mission for their friends and family. The sentimentality of the whole thing was kind of funny, something Han would have no doubt found hilarious had he not actually been a part of the situation.   
  
"You here that?" Lando asked.   
  
Chewie turned to look at his copilot and asked him what he was talking about.   
  
"Nevermind, it's probably just an engine hiccup," Lando said, flipping the coolant value switch to settle the engines. "Will you check the supply closet for me, this indicator light keeps blinking like there are parasites in it," he continued, tapping the light a bit as if it would help.   
  
Chewie nodded and switched main helm control to the copilot's terminal before heading down the corridor towards the main supply closet. He'd never liked space parasites, they were the worst kind of rodents and they stunk like sweaty mynocks. Opening the munitions cabinet close by, he pulled out a blaster and set it to stun—they smell even worse when they're dead. He opened the supply cabinet and pointed the blaster into the dark only to here a young kid's voice say "oh" as he flipped on the internal lights.   
  
"Could you point that somewhere else, Chewie?" the Wookiee heard Jacen's voice say from inside the closet as the kid, soon after joined by Anakin, stepped out of the closet and into the corridor.   
  
Chewie glared at the two children from several feet above their heads, and watched as they sunk a bit in their stances and digressed into more humble postures under the shadow of his rather angry stare.   
  
"Chewie, did you fix the—" Lando began, coming up the corridor from the cockpit. "Holy son of a…" he mumbled, his gaze falling on the boys.  
  
- - -  
  
Leia's hand grasped the comm.-link firmly and activated it as their captors realized that something was amiss. Watching as Han pulled the blaster out of the hands of the man behind him, she took deeps breaths, attempting to get the right frequency for the /Falcon/, and hoping the old bucket of bolts was in range.   
  
The guard with his arm wrapped around her neck tightened his grip when he saw what she was doing, making it difficult for her to breathe as he struggled to get the comm. from her and disregarded his blaster in the attempt.  
  
A second guard came to the aide of the first, training a blaster on Leia and yelling at her to drop the comm. as a third guard came up beside him.   
  
Leia froze, her gaze falling onto the first guard's discarded blaster as she calculated her options. One behind and two in front, she'd have to decommission the first before the other two could shoot, however that would prove a bit difficult considering the distance from herself to the weapon she so desperately needed. She straightened her posture, making to drop the comm. as the guard behind her loosened his grip and let her go.   
  
Lifting her hand to shoulder height and extending her arm out a little, she looked out between the shoulders of the two guards who faced her, seeing Han doing a little better a few meters away. And with a quick motion, she dropped to her left, reaching for the blaster catching the reaction on the guards' faces as she did so.   
  
Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the blaster as she turned back to her captors and shot the first guard in the chest, struggling to get back up as she maintained her distance from her other two pursuers who pulled out their blasters as they came towards her.   
  
Leia aimed for the second guard's chest but the shot veered toward the shoulder, piercing his skin just below his collar-bone, forcing her to re-aim. Her second try made contact with his abdomen and he fell as she dodged a shot from his companion.   
  
The one on one firefight didn't last long as another pair of guards joined what Leia had thought to be her last opponent. They raised their weapons to chest height and fired as she found cover behind a large rock near the edge of the clearing.   
  
She realized she had cornered herself as she came up from behind the stone, getting a shot off and felling one of the guards as she did, but there didn't appear to be another immediate option. Taking the opportunity, and knowing that she was more than pressed for time, she resigned herself not to send a message and simply run a continuous-feed distress signal through the comm., hoping there was someone on board the /Falcon/ with enough sense to realize who it was from.   
  
Leia watched as a round of shots went over and around the rock and she covered her head as the bolts of red light flew past her right shoulder and into the bushes ahead. This wasn't going so well anymore.  
  
Coming up from behind the rock, she aimed quickly and caught one of the guards in the neck, sending him falling to the ground and she aimed for his companion, but not as quickly as she might have hoped. The second guard shot back before Leia could pull the trigger, and she felt the painful heat and sting of a blaster wound piercing her left shoulder as she fell back from the force of impact.   
  
She opened her eyes quickly, wondering how long they'd been closed and finding her answer just above her as her captor, standing right over her, lined his blaster up with the center of her forehead.   
  
There was a familiar ring as a blaster bolt exited the barrel of the gun and headed towards its target. Leia looked straight into the eyes of the man above her as he staggered, and fell straight forward onto her, his hand, and the blaster in it, folding in and under him.   
  
Leia exhaled, feeling that she should have done so quite a bit earlier as he head felt a little light, and trying to push the man off of her, especially since her elbow was digging into her stomach. This, combined with a natural wanting to not have dead men laying on top of ones self, overrode her desire to simply lay there and breathe for a few minutes.  
  
As she started to push the man off her, she saw someone coming towards her, blaster drawn and running. She struggled to push the dead guard over so she could try to get out, but as the figure she saw moved closer she heaved a sigh of relief.   
  
"How many are left?" Leia asked as Han came to stand next to her.   
  
Han leaned down and helped her lift the guard off of her and aided her in standing up. "None standing, but I don't think it'll take them too long to change that."  
  
Leia nodded and looked toward the direction they had originally been heading for. Looking back at Han, he nodded an affirmative and they started running toward the rendezvous point, hand in hand.   
  
Letting go of Han's hand as they entered the clearing they'd designated the rendezvous point, Leia cradled her shoulder for a moment, gritting her teeth as the exposed wound oxygenated and the stinging pulsated through her arm and down her shoulder blade toward her spine.   
  
"They're not here yet," Leia said, stating the obvious.   
  
As she was about to turn to Han, a blaster bolt flew past her ear and they both turned around to face the gunman. They came face to face with five guards no more than fifty meters away, all with blaster trained at them.   
  
The two of them stood a little taller, something slightly difficult for Leia in her petite form, as the five guards moved closer and spanned out to encircle them. Leia felt Han's fingers find her hand and wrap themselves around it.   
  
As she looked up at him she smiled, ~Here goes nothing.~  
  
- - -  
  
Luke glanced forward, past the /Falcon/ and toward the planet ahead, estimating the distance and attempting to see if they were at the right angle for entering the atmosphere.   
  
It was a relief to finally be doing something about this whole mess instead of sitting around on Coruscant while Han and Leia fought their own battle in the middle of nowhere. It wasn't such a stretch from their normal lives when it came to being together, but at least when they were home their battles didn't involve life and death, not in the physical sense anyway.  
  
He wanted everything back to normal, they way he'd only been able to maintain it for short periods of time, but the way he liked it. Of course, normal meant that his best friend and his sister would be on different planets whenever he saw them, but something told him that he wasn't going to get things "back to normal" when this was all over anyway. There was some sixth sense that seemed to think that he wasn't going to get back the people he knew and loved, but he might get back two people from the past, people he'd thought were long gone and buried.   
  
The incessant beeping of his communicator caught Luke's attention as his gaze wandered back to the flight controls and he flipped the receiver on.   
  
"Luke?" Lando's voice came from the other end.  
  
"I'm here, Lando."  
  
"We seem to have a bit of a problem… we've got stowaways."  
  
Luke let out a long exhale. He knew exactly who Lando was referring to and his two students weren't the most ideal passengers on such a venture.   
  
"Where'd you find them?" he asked.   
  
"Supply closet, but I think they started out in those old smuggling compartments under the corridor's floor paneling. It hadn't really occurred to Chewie and me to check."  
  
"Do me a favor, just put them back where you found them." Luke said, going to press the sever switch and allow the cockpit to go silent once again.   
  
"Will do." Lando replied just before the comm. went off.   
  
Luke leaned back in his seat and took a deep breathe, hoping the whole thing would go smoothly, and putting together a tirade of scolding for the boys once they were on solid ground. He felt a twinge of pain in his shoulder through the Force, but ignored it for the moment.   
  
The communicator started beeping again, and Luke leaned forward to signal it on, only to find it replaying a text distress call on his display screen. It was a common mayday, but as Luke tracked it back to their rendezvous point, it didn't take to many brain cells to decipher its sender.   
  
He turned on his comm. and picked up the /Falcon's/ frequency, knowing that they'd probably gotten the signal as well.  
  
"Chewie," Luke said, cuing up his engines, "I think it's time we speed things up." 


	24. Epilogue: Not Too Late

Time had seemed to slow down. During the rescue, during those moments that they had stared down the barrels of the blasters before them and gripped each other's hands as though life itself would let them go if they were to loosen their grip on each other. And then the shadow of the /Millennium Falcon/ had covered them as cannon fire rained down in front, an X-wing following suite in it's wake.   
  
It had been surreal for Han as he stood there, the /Falcon/ landing in front of him and his sons running out to meet him. He could still see the looks on Luke and Lando and Chewie's faces as they came toward him and Leia in the clearing.   
  
He hadn't really woken up until nearly a week later, as he sat in the Hodan village, leaning up against a tree with Leia asleep in his lap and the warm bonfire raging several meters away as the Hodans danced around it. The New Republic had put an end to the harassment of their people by Han and Leia's captors, and they hadn't stopped celebrating since. It was then that he finally realized where he was, or rather, in a certain sense, *who*.   
  
He'd been fighting for years, fighting time, fighting change. He wanted to live in a past which he could have, he wanted to go back and start over. He'd fought against everything that might change him because of pride and arrogance, and all he'd done was altered himself into some ridiculous old and useless man, full of nothing but anger and regret.   
  
Fighting change only soured it. He had wanted things to stay the way they were and so he pulled away, escaping to the outskirts of the New Republic's borders, far away from what he loved, into a situation he could control, the farthest from anything he'd have to care about as he could possibly manage.  
  
And then he was there, existing in that controlled atmosphere where there was nothing for him to risk, nothing for him to gamble his emotions on, because Han Solo didn't have them, he didn't need them or want them so they were expelled long ago. So, if this was what he wanted, where was that contentment, that little "I can live with this" feeling he had expected for so long?  
  
He'd dwelled on the past for so many years that he hadn't seen his future crumbled into dust around him, taking his present with it with every passing breath. He'd wanted to change what he'd done so many years ago, the mistakes, the foolish actions that had gotten him onto a Star Destroyer in the middle of nowhere reading data reports on clouds of inter-stellar dust that he couldn't care less about.   
  
Then he'd seen her again. He may have wanted to change the past, but he didn't want to face it. He'd hated her, loathed every thought of her, if only too keep from wanted to rip his own heart out because it hurt like all nine Corellian Hells. And those feelings of affection creeping up on him were not helping his cause.   
  
With all that hate and aggression leading up to the present, it was almost laughable how quickly it all melted away.   
  
Despite all the attempts to change the past, despite every attempt to maintain a state of stationary existence, time had brought them full circle. Ten years later he was starting over, facing the same crossroads he had before, only now he knew what one road might lead to. And it was so simple.   
  
Time was funny like that. Allowing you the privilege of a look back at all of your failures, your stumbles and your falls, though it knows you can't go back, you can't alter what you've already done. But in that there is some hope, some little possibility which lingers in the mind as one scans the horizon and the sun sets on a time that has gone without much notice. There is a new destiny to create, a new life to live when the sun rises once again, and endless potential for that path up ahead.   
  
It was with that epiphany that he closed his eyes, the knowledge of some small truth making his breathing a little easier:  
  
~You can't change the past, but it's not too late for the future.~ 


End file.
